


North Star

by JayJFox



Series: Wars of hearts [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Andrew Minyard Has Feelings, Andrew Minyard is an Asshole, Angst, Bisexual Kevin Day, Explicit Sexual Content, Getting Back Together, Kevin Day & Neil Josten Friendship, Minyard-Josten Rivalry, Multi, Neil Josten is Not Fine, Post-Canon, Protective Aaron Minyard, Suicide Attempt, Wholesome Twinyards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:08:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 56,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28181397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JayJFox/pseuds/JayJFox
Summary: Two years after he broke up with Neil, Andrew hits rock bottom.Fighting with the aftermath of nearly losing his brother, Aaron finds the cracks in Andrew's life and takes it upon himself to fix as many as he can. Starting with Neil.Aaron has a plan (not necessarily a smart one).The stars might align just well enough to help him pull it off.Andrew is an asshole.Neil is fine.Alternating Neil/Andrew/Aaron/Kevin's POV.P.S: ***You don't need to read DayDream (part 1 of the series) to read this one. They are both in the same world, though (post-canon, slightly canon-divergent.)***
Relationships: Andrew Minyard & The Foxes, Katelyn/Aaron Minyard, Kevin Day/Jeremy Knox, Matt Boyd/Danielle "Dan" Wilds, Neil Josten & The Foxes (All For The Game), Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, past Kevin Day/Jean Moreau - Relationship
Series: Wars of hearts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2100240
Comments: 206
Kudos: 425





	1. I couldn’t take the dark anymore

**Author's Note:**

> All canon-typical trigger warnings apply.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew takes the last step off the edge.  
> Aaron gets a wake-up call.  
> Neil is NOT fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Suicide attempt*  
> Mention of self-harm.  
> All canon-typical triggers apply.

Neil didn’t notice the death grip he had on his phone until a crack crawled across the screen. The room was spiraling out of control, his thoughts buzzing into white noise.

And then everything narrowed down to a single word. 

_Run. Run. Run._

But there was no running away from this.

 _“Neil! You still there?”_ Matt’s voice came from the phone speaker.

Neil looked down at the screen. He forced in a long, shuddering breath and put the phone back to his ear. His nails dug into his thigh.

“Yes. Yeah, I’m here.”

_“I shouldn’t have told you. Not yet, at least. Not until I knew more. I’m sorry.”_

“No, Matt. You promised.”

Matt hated the promise he gave, Neil knew that. But he wouldn’t break it. He’d fill Neil in on Andrew’s life, even when he thought it was the wrong thing to do. 

When Andrew walked away from Neil two years ago, the world crumbled to pieces. Nothing mattered, not even Exy. Dan had said something he didn’t understand back then: _‘We’re friends of both of you, but eventually everyone will pick a side.’_ And they had. Neil had Matt and Dan, Allison, and Kevin. Kevin had been a surprise. The way he’d lashed out at Andrew, the way he handled Neil, picking the pieces of him and putting them back together… Kevin had called him his brother once, and Neil was starting to believe it. 

Andrew had his brother, Renee and Nicky. Although, Neil still received an occasional text from Nicky. 

_“Yeah, but…”_ Matt started.

“No. I’m fine.”

Matt huffed a breath. Even through the phone, he sounded hollow. _“Sure. I’ll be in Atlanta tomorrow and I’ll keep you posted.”_

“Right.” 

_“Neil…”_ Matt’s voice came out broken, all wrong, nothing like his usual grounded self. _“He’s going to be okay.”_

Neil wanted to believe it, with every fiber in his body, he wanted to believe Matt, but Matt had never been a good liar. It was bad. The tremble in Matt’s voice gave it away.

“Lying is my area of expertise, Matt.”

Matt tried for a humorless laugh and added, _“Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll call you tomorrow.”_

Neil pressed his forehead to the floor and counted to 100 in German. Then French, and Spanish and Russian. Then he started over, and over, until the numbness in his fingers dissolved. His mind kept playing the same scene: Andrew lying in a hospital bed with a bunch of cables hooked to him and a monitor with a flat line and a dull, continuous beep, and Neil wanted to scream until his throat was sore. 

The blood stopped rushing in his ears about an hour later. Neil crawled to the coffee table and opened his laptop. He had to think. _Think, damn it!_

He knew three things: 

1\. Andrew was in a hospital, and Neil had no idea what had happened, but Andrew was badly hurt, probably barely making it, _probably dead, dead, dead._

Neil slapped his cheek. 

2\. Neil couldn’t make it through if Andrew really died. 

3\. There was no way in hell Neil would just stay here and wait for Matt to call him with any news.

The thing was, when Andrew broke up with him, he’d said he couldn’t stand his stupid face for another minute. But Andrew didn’t have to see Neil, right? Neil could just… he could…

He booked a plane ticket for the soonest flight from Dallas to Atlanta before his mind went all hazy again, threw a few sets of clothes in a duffel bag and rushed to the airport. 

Atlanta smelled like the ground before a summer storm. Neil’s trip to the hospital was a blur. He didn’t have a plan. Not exactly. All he knew was he could suffocate if he didn’t get in that hospital room right now. 

The scent of antiseptic knocked Neil’s breath out of his lungs. He clenched his fist, struggling to keep his hands from shaking. He’d bribed a bored nurse to let him in, and waited in a corner on the fourth floor with his hood up. Andrew’s room was so, so close, but Neil couldn’t make it there. Not until Aaron was around. 

The blond’s cracked voice punched right into Neil’s head. He was on the phone—probably Katelyn—and he sounded shuttered, like he was about to cry. Pain shot through Neil’s chest. He was shaking and he didn’t care to fight it anymore. 

“—don’t know when… _if_ he will wake up. I.. I can’t, Kate…” Aaron let out a small sob. 

He clutched the hair on the back of his head and pressed his forehead into the wall by Andrew’s door. Neil watched from his corner. 

It didn’t feel real. Any of it. It felt like Neil had drunk a few whiskey shots and the world was sinking into a deep fog. 

“No, no, I’ll be okay. I’ll get a coffee and… yes, Kate, I promise, I’ll eat something. I’ll call you later.” A pause. “Me, too.”

Aaron shoved his phone in his back pocket and ran a hand over his face. He peeked through the door again and headed to the stairs. The cafeteria was on the ground level, which gave Neil ten minutes tops. 

Aaron was barely out of sight when Neil slipped into the room, almost colliding with the nurse. 

“Can I help you?” she said. 

“I.. uhh..” Oh, for god’s fucking sake! “I came to see my brother.”

The nurse raised an eyebrow. “Your brother.”

“Oh, I’m his younger brother. You’ve already seen Aaron, I suppose.” 

She did not believe him. At all. It was all over her face. Neil tensed waiting for the blow, but she just nodded and left the room. 

Neil had spent years without crying. But that was before Andrew left a hole in his chest. Before Andrew moved on without Neil. Before he lay in a fucking hospital bed looking lifeless like a wax doll. 

Neil swallowed the tears pooling in his eyes. He sat in the chair next to Andrew’s bed, his eyes never leaving his pale face. God, how he wished he’d open his eyes so he can drown in the warm hazel again. 

The beeps were a balm on Neil’s aching heart. Each one saying alive, alive, alive. Andrew looked so fragile and—damn it to hell, Andrew Minyard never looked fragile. 

He wanted to brush his fingertips down his cheeks, run them through his hair. He’d never touch Andrew without being allowed to do so, but two years without him had made the need for Andrew’s touch unbearable. 

He’s been so focused on Andrew’s face, he didn’t notice the gauze wrapped around his wrists until he brought his fingers an inch to Andrew’s hand. Neil’s breath froze in his lungs. His pulse skyrocketed. He was going to throw up. Andrew wouldn’t… He couldn’t do something like that. 

He needed to find that nurse and force everything out of her before he lost his mind. 

Time was up. Neil knew that. But he wanted to stay so bad his bones hurt. He brought his face close to Andrew’s, an inch between them, Neil’s finger featherlight, barely touching a lock of hair. 

“Wake up. Pl… Just wake up, Drew. Don’t do this to me.”

Warm streaks cut paths down his cheeks. He closed his eyes to the feel of Andrew’s hair on his fingertips and pushed himself up with every ounce of willpower left in him. 

Neil wiped his face, drew a long, unsteady breath and left the room. He took the corridor opposite of where Aaron had gone. His blood in his ears muffled the world around him. He barely heard someone yell “Hey!” behind him before he bolted for the stairs. 

He found a bathroom one floor down, leaned against the sink and forced slow breaths in until his heart stopped hammering against his ribcage. 

_Andrew isn’t going to die._

_Andrew isn’t going to die._

_Andrew isn’t going to die._

Neil splashed water on his face and held his hand under the stream until they felt cold enough, then pressed against his cheeks. His face was burning. His entire body was burning from the inside. He gulped water until he couldn’t hold anymore in and found a seat in the waiting room, one floor under where his heart was dying in a hospital bed. 

The buzzing in his pocket didn’t stop for five minutes straight. Neil flipped the phone out with a quiet groan. 

Kevin. Of course, it was Kevin. 

“What?” Neil drawled. God, his voice sounded wrecked. 

_“Where are you?”_

“What is it, Kev?”

 _“Where are you?”_ Matt must have told him about Andrew’s condition. Or Nicky. Or Jeremy. He was on Andrew’s team in Atlanta.

“Are you asking because you don’t know or because you just want me to say it?”

 _“You’re not supposed to be there, Neil. You can’t… There’s nothing you can do there, anyway, other than wreck yourself.”_ Kevin’s voice was low, quiet, like he was talking to a scared animal. _“Please come back.”_

“I can’t do that.”

“Do you want me to come pick you up?”

“No. I’ll come back when I know he’s fine.”

_“Neil—”_

“Kevin. I’ll come back when I can.”

Kevin sighed. _“Take care of yourself, ok?”_

“Ok.”

Neil ignored all other messages on his phone, pressed his head into his knees, and tried to paint the exact color of Andrew’s eyes in his head. 

*********

If only he hadn’t stopped for that second cup of coffee on the way. If only he hadn’t stopped at that stupid glass store to pick a stupid swan fruit ball for the stupid coffee table. Aaron would’ve made it sooner. 

If only. 

The two words that led to hell, for all Aaron could tell. 

Aaron took another sip of coffee, blinking away the memory of this morning. He needed to dip his brain into a bucket of bleach and he’d probably still see it all as clear as day. Andrew on the bathroom floor, one arm hanging into the bathtub, painting the water pale pink, angry slits on his wrists, blood pooling at his side, his forehead pressed into the edge of the bathtub. 

Andrew had always been the strong one. The one who could do anything. He’d saved Aaron—from the drugs, from his empty life before Palmetto, from Drake, from Tilda, even though it took Aaron endless sessions with Bee to accept that last one. He’d helped Matt, and Kevin, and that little piece of shit Neil Josten. 

He didn’t understand. Why would Andrew do that? He had a good thing going for himself. He had the Atlanta Hawks. A life. His teammates. He had Aaron. 

God fucking damn it, he’d promised he’d never leave Aaron again, and there he was, lying in a hospital bed, with his chances to wake up hanging on a very thin thread. The doctors said Andrew had mixed antidepressants and anxiety meds with an impressive amount of alcohol. With that cocktail, he didn’t need to cut anything, but Aaron had seen Andrew’s scars. He hadn’t done it because he doubted the drugs’ effect. 

Aaron bit the inside of his cheek to stop the thoughts. He turned the corridor to Andrew’s room when he saw a small figure leave the room. He didn’t see their face, a black hood covered their head, but no one was supposed to enter the room apart from Aaron and the doctors and nurses. 

“Hey!” Aaron called after them. The person disappeared down the stairs. 

He looked around the room. Nothing was touched, nothing was moved. Maybe the person got the wrong room and ran away before anyone figured out he was in the wrong place. 

Aaron sat on the chair by the bed and watched Andrew until his eyelids felt heavy. He dreamt of his brother. The first time he saw him. That weird feeling in the pit of his stomach, like he was looking at himself in a mirror. The rush in his chest, something twisted with fear and warmth and longing. Andrew’s cold words. But also his smiles. Those rare, once in a blue moon little gems that left warm, sticky traces in Aaron’s heart. The same ones that had been almost non existent in the last couple of years since Andrew left PSU. 

He woke up with the nurse checking Andrew’s IV and the sound of snatching a plastic pack open. She smiled at him. It was dark outside. Aaron must have slept a good few hours.

“That can’t be comfortable.” She gestured at Aaron. “You should rest, and not in a chair. You’ve been here all day. There’s nothing you can do to help your brother, anyway.” 

Aaron shook his head. The nurse sighed. 

“Is your younger brother still here? Maybe he can watch him while you rest on the waiting room couches.”

Aaron’s head snapped up to look at her. “My brother.”

“Yes.”

Aaron’s stomach twisted. He knew only one idiot who’d lie to sneak into his brother's hospital room. Emphasis on _lie_. 

“You haven’t seen him around recently, have you?”

“Not since early afternoon. Is there a problem?”

“No. No problem at all.”

A small shuffle on the bed drew Aaron’s full attention. His heart leapt into his throat. _Please. Please. Please._ His mind played in an endless loop. 

Andrew’s fingers twitched. He opened his eyes in a painfully long second as if it was all in slow motion. He blinked a few times, adjusting his focus. 

He mumbled something Aaron didn’t hear. 

“Andrew. Hey. Hey, it’s me.” Aaron held his hand, just his fingers really. The nurse rushed out to get a doctor. 

Andrew pulled the oxygen mask down and the word rolled off his lips again, quiet like a ruffle of fall leaves. “Neil. Where’s...” Then his eyes shut. 

Neil fucking Josten. Really? No. No. Really? Andrew broke up with that idiot two years ago and still the first thought he had after barely escaping death was Neil fucking Josten. Aaron wanted to cover every inch of that hospital, find the lying bastard and punch him all the way back to fucking Dallas. 

Andrew blinked slowly again.

“Hey.”

“Don’t hey me, idiot.” Aaron choked out. 

Andrew squeezed his hand weakly. 

“Why? I just… Why’d you do it, Andrew?”

Andrew looked drowsy, broken, torn to pieces from the inside, and there was nothing Aaron could do to fix him. Andrew being Andrew would tell him to go fuck himself and not ask stupid questions. This Andrew right here looked at him and said in a painfully wrecked whisper, “I couldn’t take the dark anymore.”

This was the closest Aaron would get to confession out of Andrew. He knew Andrew had been struggling, he just never assumed it was that bad. When Andrew left PSU—when Andrew left _Neil_ —Aaron watched his brother smother that _something_ that Neil lit on fire. Aaron used to think it was just some kind of twisted lust he had for the little liar, but with Neil out of the picture, he knew he was wrong. It was more like a thirst for life that Neil ignited in Andrew. And it had been gone for two years. 

Aaron wasn’t that delusional not to put two and two together. Why Andrew had decided to break it off with Neil, though, he had no idea. His brother and reason hadn’t been on good terms most of his life. 

The pieces of the puzzle quickly clicked together in Aarons mind—Bee’s heart attack, the game against Neil’s team when one of Andrew’s teammates slammed Neil into the plexiglass wall (Andrew had been drunk out of his mind the night after, Aaron recalls), Wymack’s car crash and the look on Andrew’s face when he saw the man in cast, and those goddamn pictures of Neil and a teammate laughing after a game, the other man’s arm thrown around Neil’s shoulders. Andrew had seen them on his visit to New York, and fallen into a scary silence after. 

Aaron waited until Andrew fell back to sleep and took the corridor where the hoodie man had left, no doubt in his mind it was Neil. He just had to find him. 

Neil had never been particularly smart when Andrew was involved, thank God for that, because Aaron was in no mood to roam the entire hospital. He grabbed two cups of coffee from the cafeteria and took the stairs, checking each floor’s waiting room. He found the idiot curled up in a chair in the room one floor down from Andrew. 

Aaron honestly considered pouring the coffee over Neil. Just because he was Neil. He nudged his leg with his foot. Neil jumped with a start, his back flat against the wall, his eyes wide like a deer in headlights. 

“Brother? Seriously? That’s disgusting,” Aaron said and handed him a cup. 

Neil hesitated before he took it, and sat back down. “It’s not like you’d let me in if I’d asked.”

“No. I wouldn’t. You broke up, remember?”

Neil glared at him. That at least never changed. 

“He woke up.”

Flush crawled up in Neil’s cheeks. He was on his feet in a heartbeat. Aaron put a hand flat against his chest.

“I didn’t mean you can barge in his room.”

“I just… I just want to see him. He doesn’t have to be awake. Actually, he’d better not be awake. Let me see him for just one minute and I’ll go.”

Aaron studied Neil’s face for a long moment. Two years. Neil hadn’t seen Andrew, games apart, for two years and the knee-jerk reflex he’d had was to rush to a hospital in another state to see the person who left him behind. He really couldn’t take a hint.

What if that was Katelyn? What if she’d left Aaron? Would he do the same thing? He wasn’t so sure. But Neil Josten had never been in his right mind. 

“He’s sleeping now. Move your sorry ass, Josten.”

Back in the room, Aaron stood by the door. Neil put the coffee on the window sill and neared Andrew’s bed in silent steps. His face was wrecked, and for once it had nothing to do with his scars. 

Aaron remembered now, that one time when he finally, _finally_ understood Neil and Andrew. He finally knew it wasn’t a hate-something, it wasn’t fake, it wasn’t Andrew killing time with Neil just because Neil was conveniently, dumbly, blindly into him (it was disgusting, honestly). 

_Neil and Andrew sat on the couch in their dorm, facing each other, knees touching. Aaron had come to pick something from Kevin’s room and they hadn’t realized he’d been there yet. He stood frozen by Kevin’s half-opened door. Andrew had one hand in Neil’s hair, the other holding a small box. Neil had his eyes closed._

_“Ok, you can look now. And if you say something dumb, I’m throwing this out the window. You’ve been warned, Josten.”_

_Neil smirked and looked down, the sight of the box wiping that annoying smile off his stupid face. He opened the box and took the content out. It was a chain with a silver star on it (Arron has seen it on Neil’s neck many times after). Neil held it in the air between them, swaying the chain back and forth._

_“A star? I don’t suppose you want to tell me you hope I’ll be a future Exy… star.” Neil laughed at his idiotic joke._

_“You’re just like Kevin. No. Scratch that. You’re worse. Complete idiot.” Andrew grabbed the chain off his hand._

_Neil pulled back. “Noo. You can’t take gifts back. I like it.” He held the star tight in his fist and pushed closer to Andrew, running his fingers through the blond’s hair. Andrew visibly melted at the touch. “I really,” Neil kissed his nose, “really like it.”_

_Andrew pulled the chain out of Neil’s hand and locked it around his neck._

_“Why star, then?” Neil said._

_“North star. You said when you were a kid you used to watch it and think that no matter what happened, it would never change. You said it felt like home.”_

_Neil stared at him like he’d punched the air out of his lungs. Total idiot._

_“Drew.”_

_Andrew cupped Neil’s face, his thumbs brushing his cheeks, and spoke the words Aaron wouldn’t ever imagine could possibly leave his brother’s mouth. “You’re…” Andrew swallowed._

_“You don’t have to—”_

_“You’re it. You’re the fucking north star, Neil.”_

Aaron watched Neil lean over Andrew. The redhead’s breaths hitched as he reached over to Andrew’s hair. He brushed his fingertips along the strands barely moving them. For all the ferocity Neil carried inside him and aimed at everyone who looked at him wrong, he was a half-broken, trembling mess when it came down to Andrew. 

And Aaron knew. 

He knew the little bastard was still in love with Andrew. He just wished Andrew wasn’t still in love with him. 

_You’re the fucking north star, Neil._

_I couldn’t take the dark anymore._

But Andrew was, and Aaron wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t understand. This time, he wasn’t going to brush off that thing with Neil like it meant nothing, not when it was most certainly the final thrust that pushed Andrew off the edge. 

Andrew had saved Aaron. More than once. Constantly. Even when he hated him, Andrew fought for him. 

Maybe. Maybe Aaron could return the favor for once. 

*********

Andrew’s world alternated between light and darkness in a relentless loop. He woke up with a vision of red locks and icy blue eyes, Neil’s name burning his tongue. Neil wasn’t there. Andrew’s own reflection was staring at him wearing a defeated expression. 

Right. Aaron. 

Aaron said something, and Andrew vaguely heard himself mumble some words he didn’t mean to say, and then the haze swallowed him back in. 

Andrew wasn’t a stranger to nightmares. Neil had taken a leading part of a few of them—Riko breaking Neil’s skull at the end of the game, Riko on top of Neil digging a blade under his skin, Nathan Wesninski cutting his legs, Lola burning Neil’s face. They were all bad dreams. They left Andrew broken and sweating and fighting for a breath. 

But the other dreams… the ones with Neil in the center like some kind of fucking sun Andrew gravitated around, those were worse. Those woke him up in the middle of the night and he stifled screams into his pillow and spent the rest of those nights negotiating with himself whether or not to cut another line in his already crowded forearms. 

The haze played the Neil record in Andrew’s mind on repeat. 

_“Staring.”_

_Andrew didn’t lift his gaze from his book, but Neil’s eyes burned a hole on the side of his face. He’d curled up in the beanbag chair with a cup of coffee, watching Andrew read on the couch. It was a lazy Sunday. Kevin was over to Wymack’s. It was just the two of them._

_“What, I can’t enjoy the view now?” Neil and his goddamn mouth._

_Andrew looked up. Neil placed the coffee mug on the floor and lifted himself up on his elbows, looking at Andrew like … Jesus, Andrew’s insides lit on fire at that look._

_“What do you want, junkie?”_

_“Don’t ask me questions you know the answer to.” Andrew swallowed. Neil loved using his own words against him. Especially when he was like that. When he looked at him like that._

_Andrew slid off the couch and_ crawled _to the beanbag chair. The effect he was going for was immediate on Neil’s face. He watched Andrew do it, looking like his entire life was flashing before his eyes. Andrew placed one hand on the beanbag, the other pressed against Neil’s chest, pushing him down. Neil’s breath played across his lips, sending shivers right into his spine._

_“Yes or no?”_

_Neil choked out a barely audible ‘yes’ and crushed their lips together. This was the thing about Neil’s kisses; he always kissed Andrew like they’d both die tomorrow. Like Neil would die if this ever stopped. Neil lay back and let Andrew press him harder into the beanbag. His hands found their way into Andrew’s hair, pulling him closer._

_And then Neil had that stupid look, that goddamn warm spark in his eyes that turned Andrew’s thoughts into a blur. Neil’s fingertips brushed Andrew’s cheeks, pressed into his skin and Neil said those words that broke fucking everything._

_“I love you.”_

_Andrew froze. Time froze. Everything fucking froze._

Andrew woke up with Aaron’s eyes fixed on his face. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Fabulous.”

Aaron smiled weakly. “I find it oddly reassuring that you can be a sarcastic ass even in this condition.”

Andrew glared at him. 

“Andrew, they will want you to—”

“I’m not seeing anyone.”

“I don’t think it’s up to you. Andrew, you did try to—”

“I’m not. Seeing. Anyone.”

“Ok.” Aaron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Matt is flying from Denver, said he’ll stay here until the season starts.”

Andrew snorted. “To do what? Babysit me? We’re not friends, remember? He should stay with Dan and come back for the season start.”

Matt spent every spare day he had in Denver where Dan couched a team. Why he had decided to feign friendship now, Andrew had no idea. They were teammates, yes, but Matt was Neil’s friend. Never Andrew’s. 

“Sucks to be you, I guess, cause he’s coming and I’m not telling him to go away. You can do it yourself, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t give a fuck what you think right now.”

Aaron’s phone buzzed. “It’s Kevin. I’ll be back.” 

Kevin kept tabs on Andrew out of some misplaced sense of gratitude, but he knew he wouldn’t be that stupid to come here. Andrew would probably stab him just to make a point. 

Andrew closed his eyes. He rubbed his fingers into the sheets. 

_Just wake up, Drew. Don’t do this to me._

It was a dream. It had to be. But the words felt like silk against his skin, like a wave of warm water, like the first gulp of air after a panic attack froze his lungs. 

Andrew drifted off with Neil’s voice in his head. The redhead invaded his dreams again. 

_Neil stood by the window sill, sunlight turned his hair into rich coppery gorgeousness. God, he was so beautiful it hurt to look at him._

_No. Andrew couldn’t think like that. He’d made up his mind. He had to do it. Had to save himself from drowning. Had to._

_“What is it?” Neil said._

_Rip off the bandaid._

_“I’m moving to Atlanta,” Andrew started._

_“I know that. Where are you going with this?” Something like worry flickered featherlight across Neil’s face._

_Andrew swallowed. “I can’t do this.”_

_“You can’t do what?” Neil stilled in his spot._

_Andrew looked away. Neil’s eyes on him were too much, the goddamn blue was unbearable._

_“Drew?”_

_“We should stop. This.”_

_“This.” Neil repeated, his voice low and raspy._

_Andrew gestured between the two of them. He clenched his teeth, forcing his bored expression on._

_“You… You want to break up?” Neil’s voice cracked. “Drew… I… Did I do anything?” He stepped closer._

_Andrew shot a warning look at him, freezing Neil in his spot. “There’s no point in keeping up with this now, is it? I’ll be in Atlanta, you’ll be drafted in a pro team next year, fuck knows where.”_

_“Yes but… I thought you… It doesn’t mean we won’t work, Drew. I want—”_

_“I don’t.”_

_“Drew, don’t do this…”_

_Neil’s breath hitched and Andrew wanted to sink into the floor, into the center of the earth and die. It ripped through his insides to look at him._

_Do it, Minyard. Fucking do it. Get this over with._

_“I don’t want this anymore, Neil.” Andrew forced ice into his voice. “Do you really not get it? I’m tired of this. I can’t look at your face for another fucking minute. I told you I’d get bored of you eventually.”_

_Neil stepped back like Andrew had physically hit him. His face wiped clean of emotion, the icy blue turned into liquid metal._

_He nodded, pushed past Andrew and shut the door._

Andrew woke up with a gasp. Wet warmth pooled in his eyes. He drew slow, controlled breaths, struggling to slow his heart rate down. 

_Stop it, stop it, stop it._


	2. A good day for bad ideas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Andrew hates Neil Josten.  
> Aaron comes up with a plan. Not necessarily a smart one.

Andrew had no idea what he was doing outside of the Red Lions’ stadium in New York. He was on his third visit to Aaron since the accident two months ago, and the first games of the season had started. Andrew’s was yesterday against the Chicago team. 

The Red Lions were about to play against the Dallas Cardinals. 

It was a bad idea. Exy fans could easily recognize his face even with his sweater’s hood over his head. But something pulled him closer to the stadium, like an invisible thread around his neck. 

Andrew’s phone buzzed to life in his pocket. He swallowed hard, sank in the driver’s seat and answered the call. Aaron would not give him a fucking break! 

“What?”

“You were supposed to be here an hour ago. Where are you?”

“Walking on the edge of a rooftop.”

“Andrew!” Aaron yelled. Literally _yelled_. 

“I took a detour, I’ll be over soon. Stop checking on me every half hour, I’m not your fucking teenage daughter.”

“You know this isn’t—”

Andrew disconnected the call. The clamor around the stadium drowned Andrew’s thoughts. He laughed at himself and drove off. 

On the way to Aaron’s apartment, he put his phone on the dashboard holder and dialed Bee. 

“Hello, Andrew. I’m glad you called.” It was Bee’s call opening since the accident. Andrew gritted his teeth at the line every time. Bee was the only one apart from Aaron and Matt who knew the details of Andrew’s ‘accident’. And the cheerleader, of course. Aaron had told the others Andrew had slipped down a flight of stairs and cut himself on broken window glass. But Bee had to know. The doctors in the hospital insisted Andrew talked to a professional and he refused everyone they suggested, claiming he already had a therapist. Bee scolded him at length about lying and tried to make him see a psychiatrist she knew in Atlanta. 

Andrew had refused. Instead, he called Bee when the tide rose too high, and she picked up every time. 

“Hi, Bee. If you have any chocolate in your house, tell me now so I can turn around and come over to throw it all out.”

Bee laughed. It wasn’t funny, really. None of it was funny. Andrew was pretty sure Bee’s damn hot chocolate obsession played a major part in her heart attack. 

“No. I will not give you an excuse to run away from your dinner with Aaron and Katelyn.”

“I don’t need an excuse for that.”

“You promised Aaron you will do this, and you don’t break your promises.”

Damn Bee. Andrew stepped on the gas and zipped around the convertible in front of him. Who the fuck drives a convertible in New York? 

“I went to the stadium.”

“Okay?”

“Neil’s game starts in an hour there.”

Bee hummed. “Andrew, have you considered talking to Neil? Not about you and him specifically, just reaching out again.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Andrew.” She sighed. 

“Just tell me something psychiatrist-y. How I need to work on letting shit go or something like that.”

“I’m not your psychiatrist anymore. But as a friend, I’ll tell you that: it’s been two years and if you still can’t let go, maybe you need another option.”

“You mean, talk to him.”

“I don’t know why that scared you so much. Neil was the only person apart from me you felt safe enough to trust with your secrets. I don’t believe he’s changed that much. I don’t believe he’ll ever do anything to deliberately hurt you. If you reach out, I believe he will be there for you.”

“Maybe you overestimate his virtues.”

“Or maybe you underestimated your importance to him.”

Andrew clenched his jaw and forced a few deep breaths. 

“Thanks, Bee.” He disconnected the call and blasted the radio to muffle his screaming thoughts.

Later that night, Andrew sat on the couch, aimlessly changing the channels. Aaron was rambling about his residency in the hospital—it was mostly dead-people talk and what Aaron had to do to the corpses, disgusting. 

Andrew let in a few words every now and then to keep up with his brother’s idea of a warming sibling conversation and kept turning the channels. He took a long drag of whiskey and somewhere between the weather channel and some dumb anime, his hand froze on the remote. 

Aaron kept talking, his back turned on the TV, but something in Andrew’s expression made him pause and turn around. 

Neil Josten stood next to the Cardinal’s backliner and—openly bisexual— heartthrob, Cristian Diaz, the man’s arm pressing on Neil’s back, his head tilted down towards him. A tremor ran through Andrew’s body. Something black and sticky that burned like acid. Objectively, Andrew knew Neil didn’t see other people the way he did, Neil didn’t care Diaz was a 6’2” epitome of fucking perfection that probably half of the Exy fans thought about with their hand down their pants. And jealousy was a petty, useless emotion by general rule. 

But when Diaz’s hand ran up Neil’s back and stilled on his shoulder, Andrew wanted to scream. Or throw up. Probably both. 

He cranked up the sound, ignoring the pointed look Aaron threw at me. 

_“Neil, the Cardinals open the season with a striking win, how do you feel about the forthcoming game against the Chicago Rebels next week?”_

The interviewer sounded like she was about to pass out just looking at them. 

The score at the bottom of the screen showed 14-8, Cardinals favor. 

Andrew couldn’t focus on anything Neil said while the backliner’s hand was still on him, pressed possessively over Neil’s shoulder. Neil gave his most shit-eating grin and started talking, Diaz chuckling next to him. 

_“—up to an amazing season. Our backline is fantastic this season. Keep your eyes on us,”_ Neil said. 

Kevin walked past him, giving a pat on Neil’s back. Diaz winked— _winked!_ —at the camera and followed his teammates. 

“—drew.”

Andrew’s fingers tightened around his glass. God, how he wished that was the stupid backliner’s neck in his grip. 

“Andrew!”

His eyes snapped on Aaron. “What?” He turned the sound down. 

“You zoned out.”

“No, I didn’t. Just checking if Josten is still a fucking idiot.”

“And?”

“He’s always going to be a fucking idiot in front of a camera. And off.”

Andrew pushed the whiskey glass away from him and stormed out of the room.

*********

Aaron couldn’t sleep that night. Andrew didn’t walk out of the guest bedroom for the rest of the night and Aaron knew he’d sunken back into that scary silence again. 

“Baby, are you going to stare at the ceiling all night?” Katelyn murmured, brushing his cheek. 

“Do you think he’s going to try again?” The question ate at Aaron for weeks. What if Aaron got too buried into his work and skipped a day to check in on Andrew? What if he got sick? What if even with all Aaron did to keep Andrew closer than ever, he still slipped downhill. It would all be his fault and he couldn’t live with that.

Katelyn sighed. “I don’t know, babe. But none of this is your fault. Please don’t forget that. I know you feel guilty about it, but none of it is on you.”

Aaron turned sideways and buried his head into the pillow. “I don’t know what to do, Kate. I can make him come here, make him write to me every day, call me, and he’ll do it. He does it. But at the end of the day, he can still end up with his… with…” The words choked him. 

“He won’t go to therapy. You can’t fix him without help, Aaron. You’re doing the best you can, baby. I’m sure Andrew sees that.”

“You didn’t see his face when he saw Josten on that stupid sports channel. It was like life leached out of him. It’s been two years, he was supposed to be over him.”

“I don’t think you evaluate the impact Neil had on Andrew’s life correctly. I know you hate Neil, alright? I do. And I’m not saying you shouldn’t. I don’t question your reasons, they’re yours. But try to push that aside for a second, babe.”

“Easy for you to say, you didn’t watch the little shit all over _your_ brother. Multiple times.”

Katelyn laughed. God, he loved that sound. “And here I thought you were over that.”

“I am.” 

Katelyn raised an eyebrow. 

“I am! It has nothing to do with that, Kate. I don’t care who Andrew wants to fuck, okay? But… Neil? He’s… he’s just…”

“He made your brother _care_ , Aaron. He made him care enough to go to therapy with you, made him care enough to actually put effort into that stupid sport and make a life out of it. Honest to God, if you told me that first year in PSU that Andrew Minyard will be sleeping in the same house as me and none of us will be murdered in cold blood, I’d proclaim you clinically insane right then and there.”

Aaron laughed. “Alright, alright, you have a point.”

“All I’m saying is maybe he knows he made a mistake when he let Neil go.”

Aaron ran a hand over his face. God, that stupid striker would be the death of him. “I know. I’ve thought about it. Back in the hospital in Atlanta.”

“Maybe they should… talk?”

“Ha! Good luck with that. My stubborn brother would rather chop off his own arm and eat it than run over his stupid pride and actually call Neil. God, what am I saying? He’d probably stab Neil a little bit, just to prove we’re all wrong and he’s over him.”

Katelyn pushed Aaron on his back and climbed on top of him, her hand buried in his hair. She kissed his cheek, ran a tongue down his neck, bit in the crook between his neck and his shoulder, and Aaron could swear all his blood pooled down into his dick. “K-kaate.”

“Mmmyeah?” Her fingers found the hem of his shirt and pushed it up.

“He can hear us. He’s like a fucking vampire. Never sleeps.”

“I don’t care.” She traced wet kisses down his chest. “Also, I’m a genius, babe, you can’t say no to a genius.”

Aaron’s head was a mess. Jesus Christ, that woman would kill him, and he’d probably let her. He tried to form a coherent thought as Katelyn bit into his hip. A small hiss escaped his mouth. 

“Y-you have a plan,” Aaron mumbled. “I like it when you have a plan.”

Katelyn pushed herself up and kissed him, tongues clashing together. “Yes. Evil genius plan. But right now my sex life is a tiny bit more important than your brother’s so shut up.” 

She pulled her shirt over her head and.. God… if that wasn’t a view to die for, Aaron had no idea what was. Katelyn drew wet trails down his chest, his abs, lower… “Y-yes, Kate, baby, please.” He didn’t care what words came out of his mouth, even less so if Andrew could hear them. Kate was a fucking goddess.


	3. The Minyard-Josten Rivalry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First game between the Atlanta Hawks and the Dallas Cardinals for the season.  
> The Minyard-Josten rivalry is born.  
> Andrew is a total ass.  
> Neil is not taking his bullshit.  
> Aaron can't believe those idiots are accidentally helping his plan.

Ten minutes before the Cardinals game against the Atlanta Hawks, Neil’s heart was in his stomach. He hasn’t seen Andrew since that day in the hospital, and he sure as hell wasn’t prepared to play against him today. 

“You okay?” Kevin sat next to him on the bench in the locker room. 

“Yeah, sure, I’m fine, whywouldn’tIbe?” Neil gulped a few massive mouthfuls of water. 

Kevin snorted. “Very convincing.”

“You should be worried about yourself. You get distracted when you have to beat Mister Fucking Sunshine’s team.” 

Kevin punched Neil’s biceps. “Don’t call him that.”

“You two are each other's biggest fans, it’s ridiculous.” Neil chuckled. “Wait! I know what your next birthday gift is going to be. A shirt. ‘Jeremy Knox Fan Club CEO’.” He gestured across his chest.

Kevin tried and fails to suppress a laugh. 

“When did you become such a shit? You were a perfectly fucked up kid with a dark past and the mafia on his ass. Then Allison fucking broke you, Neil! You speak sarcasm now. I don’t like it.”

“You don’t like anything.”

“Are you two done flirting?” The Cardinals’ captain, Riya Hennessy said. 

“Fuck you!” Neil and Kevin barked at the same time. 

“I bet my ass you’re somehow related. Let’s go! Move your asses!” Hennessy seemed to think that shouting at your team was actually a pep talk. 

Ridiculously enough, it worked. 

Neil waited by the door for his name to be called, bouncing on his heels. 

_Don’t look at Andrew. Don’t look at Andrew. Don’t look at Andrew._

It wasn’t their first game against each other, but the tension in Neil’s chest since he saw Andrew in the hospital two months ago had been growing and tonight it threatened to explode. 

Neil heard Kevin’s name, then his own and quickly trailed after him. He was dizzy by the time they called Andrew’s name. Andrew took his position, his eyes trained on Neil’s. 

“Don’t let him rattle you,” Kevin shouted at him in French. 

Neil nodded. 

By the end of the first half, the score was 2:4, Hawks favor. Fucking Andrew! He was going to run Kevin and Neil into the ground. Kevin had scored both goals. It wasn’t really a surprise; Andrew wasn’t going to let a single goal from Neil past him. The bastard would do it simply out of spite. For all Neil knew, there wasn’t a thing Andrew Minyard couldn’t do out of spite. 

“What the fuck, Josten! Get your shit together!” Hennessy shouted in the locker room. 

Neil wasn’t going to say what he needed to in front of everyone. He neared Hennessy and whispered so that only she could hear him.

“Put O’Brian in. We have to turn the score around and we won’t do it if you put _me_ back in. Minyard will shut the goal down again. You remember the last time we played against the Hawks. Put O’Brian in.”

“Didn’t you guys play together in college?” Riya Hennessy said. 

“Yeah.”

“And what, you hate each other?”

Neil shrugged. Hennessy patted his shoulder and sighed. 

“O’Brian, you’re in. Neil you’re sitting half the time. Day, keep it up.”

In the second half, Neil watched the tension in Andrew’s shoulder loosen. He was still vicious but not on the verge of setting the court on fire with his stare. Kevin scored 3 more goals, O’Brian scored another 2. 

When Kevin missed halfway through the second half, Andrew shouted “Suck it, Kevin” from the goal. The audience roared. Neil chuckled. This could be fun. All of them, Neil and Kevin and Matt and Andrew playing in the same court. But Neil was shut out of this. Andrew lost the soft edges of him whenever Neil stepped on the court, the thrill of the game was gone, replaced by thick tension. 

Neil replaced Kevin for the last twenty minutes and called O’Brian over. Andrew stared at him like he was about to murder both of them. Diaz neared, patting Neil’s shoulder. 

“Josten, the Hawks guard dog is looking like he’ll drag your dead body across the court. Watch out there, alright?” 

Neil spared a look at Andrew. His face behind the visor was still water, but his eyes were saying ‘Go fuck yourself’. 

“O’Brian, you’re scoring, ok? Only you. I’ll pass you the ball, but you have to finish the shots. Change angles and go above his head.”

O’Brian’s face cringed in confusion but he nodded. 

The striker scored 3 more times, landing the final score at 10:9. The Cardinals won. 

The buzzer went off. Neil pulled off his most annoying grin, the one he knew would piss off Andrew. O’Brian was shouting something at Neil between a laugh when Becker, the Hawks’ backliner, slammed him to the ground. 

Neil was between O’Brian and Becker in two seconds, pushing the backliner away from his teammate. 

Other players were shouting. Matt dragged his teammate away, sharing a concerned look with Neil. 

Neil offered a hand to O’Brian and pulled him up. A voice behind him sent his pulse into a mad stutter. 

“Still fighting other people’s fights.”

Andrew stood behind Neil, arms crossed at his chest. 

“Don’t mess with me, Minyard,” Neil forced out. 

Andrew huffed a laugh. “Or what?” He stepped closer, so damn close, Neil couldn’t breathe and tapped his helmet into Neil’s. 

“Your team was lucky this time, Josten,” Andrew said, flipped Neil off and walked away. 

“God, what’s the tiny asshole’s problem?” O’Brian muttered. 

Neil stood frozen in his spot. 

Two years and this was what Andrew decided to say to him. After two fucking years. A fireball burned in Neil’s stomach. 

When he returned to his team, Hennessy pulled him by the sleeve. “Press duty. Go.”

Knowing Riya Hennessy, she’d probably known perfectly well that Neil would end up with Andrew for the interviews. Leave it to her to stir this shit up. She was most definitely laughing her ass off in the locker room. 

“Neil, you didn’t get to score tonight, though you played almost full time, how do you feel about that?”

Fucking reporters. 

“We won. In case you haven’t been paying attention, this is a team sport. And our team won. This is what matters.”

Andrew looked at him as if he was about to pull a knife out of his armbands. Neil was sure he didn’t carry any on the court. 

“Just tell them you can never score against me, Josten,” Andrew said. 

“I would but I don’t want to lie to the reporters, _Minyard_.” 

What the hell was Andrew doing? Neil’s arms were shaking and he had to cross them to conceal it. 

“Ah, right. Because honesty is your game now? Remind me, didn’t you spend your first year in college lying to all your teammates _and_ your couch?”

Andrew smiled, one of those manic smiles that he had when he was on his medications during Neil’s freshman year. It made the hair on the back of his head rise. 

“Neil, is that a comment on your commitment to the Cardinals?”

“Neil—”

“Neil, would you comment on Minyard’s accusation? Are you planning to leave the team?”

“Andrew, is there bad blood between the both of you?”

Cristian Diaz stepped in and pulled Neil’s arm. The backliner pushed Neil behind him and stepped forward. “Thank you. If you have any other questions about the game, I’ll be happy to answer them. No? Okay then, we’re done.” 

‘Asshole’ Diaz muttered on the way out. 

*********

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Minyard?” Matt yelled as soon as Andrew stepped into the locker room. 

“Fuck off, Boyd! I’m in no mood to tolerate your meltdown about your BFF’s bruised pride.”

“Fucking asshole!”

Matt stormed out of the locker room. Well, that was a tad overdramatic. Even for Boyd. 

Dominic Lee, the Hawks’ striker, sat on a bench across from Andrew, looking at him like Andrew had two heads. 

“What?”

“Nothing.”

The locker room was empty and Andrew really didn’t care for Dominic feigning tact right now. He was the only one who knew about Neil and Andrew’s history, vaguely but enough. The striker was Andrew’s closest friend on the team but that didn’t mean Andrew was about to spill his sappy love story to him. Dominic had found out when he was looking at a picture of Andrew’s old car on his phone and scrolled through until Neil’s face was on the screen, again and again and again. Neil looking at Andrew from under his curls, his eyes bright and warm. Neil laughing at the court with his head thrown back. Neil drawing tiny fox paws in a notebook. 

Dominic put two and two together, he wasn’t an idiot. 

“Just spill it, Dom.”

“That was… interesting.”

“Interesting.”

“Petty would be a better word.”

Andrew snorted. “Yeah.”

Andrew wanted to, so fucking much, he wanted to go in that goddamn locker room and press Neil into a wall and kiss him stupid. He’d wanted it since the day he walked away from him, but never more desperately than at this moment. 

God, he hated Neil. With passion. His stupid face, and the way he looked at him and how much Andrew’s entire body screamed with the desire to get closer to him. 

He took a quick cold shower, ignored his teammates’ offers to go drown the loss in drinks and headed to the hotel. One night in Dallas. With Neil in the same fucking city. 

Andrew lay on the floor in his hotel room, staring at the ceiling. It helped when he was restless and going completely mad. 

Around midnight, his phone buzzed for the dozenth time and Andrew finally pulled it off the coffee table and looked at the messages. 

**_Matt [22:32]_ **

_You ok, dick? Just yes or no._

**Dom L [22:45]**

_The Cardinals sure love your ex, dude._

**Kevin [22:51]**

_I’d ask what’s wrong with you but I know the answer’s everything. What are you trying to do? This is low even for you._

Fucking idiot. 

_Missed call: Doppelgänger_

_Missed call: Doppelgänger_

_Missed call: Jeremy Knox_

**Doppelgänger [22:59]**

You ok there, bro? Call me.

**Dom L [23:04]**

_OMG, you have to say something, Andrew! What the fuck are those dickheads thinking!_

**Dom L [23:16]**

_FFS, will you look at your fucking twitter account, like rn?_

**Dom L [23:17]**

_Josten is a shit._

**Dom L [23:51]**

_I’m breaking into your room if you don’t answer. You’ve been warned._

Andrew typed a quick “I’m fine” to both Matt and Dominic. Matt sent him a laughing emoji. Dick. Dominic replied “Okay.” At least he had a sense of tact. 

Andrew opened his Twitter account and scrolled through the feed. Dominic was right, the Cardinals were defending Neil like Andrew had thrown fucking rocks at him. 

**@CristianDiazOfficial** No, assholes, @NeilJos10 is NOT leaving the Cardinals. Takes your heads out of your asses! 

**@HennessyN6** @NeilJos10 is one of our most dedicated players, what the fuck! @AMinyard is just butthurt his team lost. Get over yourself, asshole!

 **@DallasCardinals** @NeilJos10 is not transferring. 

**@ExyQueenKDay** Losing is a part of the game. Some people need to learn how to do it without acting out like 5-year-olds. 

**@NeilJos10** Breaking news: I don’t have to prove my commitment to my team to anyone but my team. I have, so stfu.

 **@AlliReynolds** Andrew grow the fuck up. Oh. Wait.

Andrew took a minute to think it through, drafted a tweet and poured himself a drink. This was a bad idea. Not that he didn’t hate Neil, God he hated him so much. _So much!_ But also… okay, fine, maybe not so much. Maybe if everyone thought Andrew hated him, it would be easier. What if… What if it could be easier? 

Andrew gulped half the glass in one long draw and posted the tweet. 

**@AMinyard** Maybe @NeilJos10 should focus less on talking and more on actually scoring. Oh. Wait.

 **@AlliReynolds** don’t use my lines, dick.

 **@AMinyard** Or what? You and Josten will cry together really hard?

 **@NeilJos10** Fuck you.

The fake hate didn’t take, Andrew figured. At all. But at least Neil was saying something. Words aimed at Andrew. For Andrew. At least he thought about him. 

*********

Kevin was pouring another glass of whiskey when Jeremy looked at his phone, threw his head back and laughed. The vodka in his system made the effect of that single sound feel like a lightning strike through him. Neil was right. Kevin did have a huge, embarrassing Exy crush. He all but fangirled over Jeremy. 

“Look at that.” Jeremy turned his phone around. 

A picture of Neil and Andrew, helmets pressed together, and Philip O’Brian’s hand pulling Neil backward, captioned ‘College teammates to rivals. What caused the Minyard-Josten feud?’.

Kevin growled. “This is going to end badly.”

“There’s a hashtag now. And it’s trending. #MinyardJostenRivalry. Jesus Christ, people are bored, man.”

Queen’s We Will Rock You blared from Kevin’s phone, tucked in his bag on the chair across the room. He groaned, but lifted himself up and dug the phone out.

“What?”

“He r-really hates me chu know,” Neil slurred. 

“Are you drunk?”

“He broke up with me,” he hiccuped, “Why’s h-he so pisssed now?”

“Okay, I need you to tell me where you are right now. I just want to know you’re safe.”

“Wiv the… horses.”

“What?” Kevin was actually going to kill Neil. 

“Horseyys”

“Neil, for fuck’s sake, what are you talking about?”

“S’me dude ss raisin horses in a... house... farm… it’s red. I like red. Horses’re pretty.”

Kevin sighed. Well, now it was clear why Neil never drunk. He was a fucking imbecile intoxicated. 

“Is that on the TV?”

“Mmyes, big screen-y thing. Hey, dis horsey has hair like Drew’s.”

“Jesus Christ,” Kevin muttered. “Alright. Watch the horses and try to get some sleep. Call me if you need me. And not for the fucking horses, Neil! I mean it.”

“Mmsure,” Neil muttered and a sound like his phone falling on a carpet brushed in Kevin’s ear. 

Jeremy had his palm pressed against him mouth, chuckling quietly. 

“Horses?” Jeremy said. 

“Yeah… Remind me to never let him drink.”

Kevin put the phone back in his pocket and joined Jeremy on the couch. The faint scent of cedar wood hazed his mind. The damn vodka fucked up with Kevin’s head more than he was willing to admit. Especially when Jeremy was around. 

“Soumm, do I have one of these?” Jeremy said. 

“One of what?”

“Ringtones.”

“Oh… Umm, no,” Kevin’s cheeks were burning, “whywouldyouhaveone. Did you want another drink?” He cleared this throat. 

“I dooo. Let me hear it.”

“You don’t, this was just an inside joke with Neil.”

“Come on, Kev, what is it, what is it, what is it?”

“What are you, ten?”

Jeremy snorted, his phone already in his hand, and then Kevin heard the song from his phone and wanted the floor to open up and swallow him. Jeremy’s smile twitched into something else, a bolt of shock ran across his face for a second, and the smile was back. ‘Don’t let the sun go down on me’ was still playing. Kevin’s breath was frozen in his lungs. 

The ringtone cut off. Jeremy raised his phone to his ear, waited for a second for the voicemail signal and said, “I really like that song, Kev.” 

Jeremy laughed softly. He’d always had that infuriating soft laugh that crinkled the corners of his eyes. Kevin hid his face in his palms and laughed, too. 

“Well, now that it’s official I’m a total sap, I should probably warn you that I’ll release your video talking about bees when you were still high on drugs after that ankle sprain if this becomes public knowledge.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me, Knox, try me.”

God, it was so easy with Jeremy. Neil was right, his little crush was getting out of control. Damn it, Knox!

Kevin drained his glass in two long gulps, smothering the tingles in his stomach. 

*********

The morning after the Hawks:Cardinals game, Aaron sat in his living room, going through the tweets from the last night, and laughed like a maniac.

“Kate!”

He could not believe his fucking luck.

“You won’t believe what those two idiots just managed to do. God, this couldn’t have turned any more perfect than that.”


	4. A slow impending petty attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaron sets the ball rolling.  
> Andrew has a black belt in being petty.  
> Kevin is an overprotective marshmallow. (Kevin is a cupcake in all my fanfics & I'm not sorry)

_Nov 3_

**Aaron Minyard [21:45]**

_Foxes reunion, Dec 4, you in?_

Kevin stared at his phone for a full minute. What in the name of… Just... What? Since when did Aaron care or even acknowledge his time with the Foxes as something _valuable_? 

Kevin dialed the number. 

“Hey, Kevin,” Aaron picked up on the second signal. 

“Umm, hey. What’s going on? What reunion?”

“Oh. Well, Matt and Dan were in New York a few weeks ago and Matt called me to get a drink. So, we all got out, had a few, and got a little sentimental I guess. I thought it’d be nice to catch up with the Foxes and—”

“ _You_ thought it’d be nice to catch up with _us_?”

“Why’s everyone saying that? Hey! I might not have the team spirit but that time was important to me, too. So. Dan called me a couple of hours ago with the details. Wymack booked the hall, he’s taking the baby Foxes.”

Kevin all but gaped at his phone. No doubt this was some kind of replicant he was talking to. There was no way in hell this was Aaron’s idea. 

“Umm.. okay.”

“Okay you’re in?”

“I… Yes. I think.”

“Great! I suppose you’ll get your invitation by mail, because Matt is _that_ extra. Can’t wait to see you all.”

Kevin hummed in agreement and disconnected the call. He couldn’t remember the last time he spoke to Aaron. Last Thanksgiving maybe? It wasn’t that they didn’t like each other—they did—but after Andrew broke up with Neil, Kevin couldn’t find it in himself to keep in touch with his side of the bunch. 

Oh, shit. Neil.

That couldn’t be good. Andrew and Neil under the same roof. Considering the last game they played against each other and the rivalry hashtag growing popularity every minute, Kevin expected them to stab each other. 

He wasn’t going to break the news to Neil. The redhead could have a meltdown whenever the invitations came in the mail. Until then, Kevin was keeping his mouth shut. 

But maybe, Andrew wouldn’t go; Andrew wasn’t so stupid to put them in a situation like that. Was he? What was he saying, of course, he was. It was Andrew! Logic and reason were beyond his capabilities. 

Kevin sighed and dialed Matt.

“Keeeev, if ya call me once every two months I’ll forget what you sound like and t-this would be horrrrible,” Matt slurred slightly. 

Someone laughed and Kevin recognized the sound in a heartbeat. A smile crawled up his lips. Jeremy’s laughter was an incendiary thing. 

“Hey, Boyd, are you celebrating something?”

When Matt spoke again, he was talking to someone else, “Shhh, sh! I’m putting Exy golden boy on speaker.”

“Matt, do not put me on speaker!”

“Hey, Kev,” Jeremy drawled in a way Kevin could tell he’d had more than a few drinks. Something bubbled in his stomach. 

“What are you drunks celebrating?” Kevin said through a laugh. 

“Umm… Wednesday,” Matt said. 

“It’s Thursday, Boyd,” Jeremy said. 

“Then Thursday!” Matt yelled. “How are you doing Kev, Kevey Dayvey, is my baby Neil with you?”

“I should probably call you in a time when you can say my name right,” Kevin muttered. 

Matt was useless drunk. 

There was some noise like someone’s hand rubbed over the speaker, a ruffle of fabric and a clunk. 

“Hey, Kev.” Jeremy’s whiskey purr was back on. Kevin swallowed. “So, Matty’s a little out of it. What is it?”

“Yeah. Right. So, just got a call about a Foxes reunion. Wanted to check something with him about it.”

“Oh. If a specific goalie is going to go?”

It wasn’t rocket science for Jeremy to put the pieces together; Kevin had vented to him about this long enough. 

“Well, yeah, that.”

“Matt mentioned something about it earlier. Said he gave him the invitation.”

“What’sss he asking? Is’t about ‘Ndrew? Fuck. Andrew. He’s a dick. Kev, babe, tell Neil Andrew’s a dick!” Matt shouted.

Jeremy’s soft giggle sent a lazy shiver down Kevin’s back. “Alright, alright, he knows that. Here, drink that.” There was a low humming sound and a clunk of glasses. “Matt said Andrew told him, and I’m quoting here, ‘I’d rather waterboard myself than stay in the same room with all of you.’”

“Drama queen.”

Jeremy laughed. “I get the feeling this was a major requirement to become a Fox.”

“If you want to tell me something, Knox, just fucking say it.” Kevin really, really tried to push down the laugh in his throat. 

“Nothing to add, Queen Day.”

“Asshole. So, he might not come then? That’s… well, not a bad thing.”

“Matt said he took the invitation, though.”

Kevin growled. 

“Have fun babysitting, Day.”

When Jeremy hung up, Kevin thought it might be a good idea to get him to come to the reunion. For backup, or something. And only a little bit because Jeremy Knox looked gorgeous in a suit. Alright, bad idea, Day! Bad idea! 

The next morning Kevin found Neil in the living room in their shared apartment, staring at the invitation as if it was a ticking bomb in his hand. 

Great. Babysitting it was. 

*********

_Nov 8_

Foxes. Reunion. Home. The invitation was all of that. Yet, all Andrew’s mind wrapped around as he stared at the dreaded paper was Neil, Neil, _Neil_. 

Too close to Neil. Neil’s scent around him. His goddamn laugh. Playing against him was one thing. Watching Neil being Neil for a whole evening was something no amount of alcohol could help Andrew deal with. 

But he couldn’t just say no. Because if he backed out now, he would be on the losing side of the game. He would be the weaker one. No. Andrew wasn’t backing out. But he sure as hell could make Neil do it. 

It was general knowledge that Neil Josten could do _anything_ out of spite. He could burn the whole damn world out of spite for all Andrew knew. But it was different when Andrew was involved. Always had been. 

So, all Andrew had to do was pull the right strings to make the striker skip the reunion by his own choice. Sure, it was petty, Andrew knew that, but being a petty bastard was better than being stuck with Neil in a room within a reachable distance. The thought of it… Neil’s eyes wandering around Andrew’s face, the red curls falling around his face, the way Neil’s hand looked when he pushed them back, the half smirk before his actual laugh, the… 

Alright. Fine. Fine! Pettiness it was. 

Andrew grabbed his phone off the table, tipped his head back on the couch cushions in his studio apartment and ran a few options through his head. A recap of tonight’s Dallas Cardinals game was running on the sports channel. The Cardinals lost. 

Kevin gave some half-assed “you can’t always win” speech to the reporters. The video switched to Neil’s face the moment the buzzer went off. The Cardinals had lost with 1 point and Neil stared at the scoreboard with that look he had whenever he lost a game. As if he expected the numbers on the board to change. 

Andrew opened his twitter account and typed in. 

**@AMinyard** Good game **@NeilJos10** . My favorite part was when you scored in the last ten seconds. Oh, wait, that was **@TheRealDanCohen** . Go **@ChicagoRebels**!

The comments and retweets started pouring in seconds after Andrew hit _post_. He didn’t even like the Rebels. Their goalie was inconsistent and their strikers mediocre at best. They just got lucky. 

Andrew poured himself a drink and waited for the blowback. 

Ten minutes. Nothing from Neil. 

**@TheRealDanCohen** lol, **@AMinyard** you’re a troll. Didn’t know you’re a fan though

 **@ExyQueenKDay** real mature, **@AMinyard**

**Kevin [22:47]**

What are you, five???

Andrew rolled his eyes. Ever since Andrew broke up with Neil, Kevin Day took the part of a snarling guard dog. Andrew wasn’t sure what broke Kevin’s single-laned mind and turned him into a real-life boy; could’ve been his thing with Moreau, or Wymack’s constant efforts to make up to Kevin for lost time, or this one time Josten took a punch in the face for Kevin after a brutal game with the Beatcats. Whatever it was, Kevin fucking Day had _feelings_ now. And, apparently, a lot of them were directed at Neil. 

Andrew hated Kevin’s little-brother protective bullshit. 

_Hello, to you, too, Day,_ Andrew replied. 

_It must suck balls to lose against the worst goalie in the league._

**Kevin [22:56]**

_Stop taunting him_

Motherfucker! 

This was none of Kevin Day’s fucking business! None of it! Andrew squeezed his phone tight and took a few deep breaths. 

He looked at his post again. 

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. 

**@NeilJos10** It’s a miracle you watched the whole thing given you have the attention span of a goldfish, **@AMinyard.**

Andrew snorted. God, how he missed that mouthy idiot. He bit his lip until he tasted blood and typed again. 

**@AMinyard** my attention span is long enough to block your lousy shots for a full game.

**Kevin [23:11]**

_Andrew!_

Andrew’s phone vibrated on the coffee table. Once. Twice. Andrew honestly couldn’t give a fuck. Unless the name on the screen belonged to a certain redhead asshole. Andrew liked to stretch long night scenarios of what that would be like, what he’d say to him. 

_Missed call: Kevin_

_Missed call: Kevin_

**Kevin [23:16]**

_I know why you’re doing this shit, Andrew, I’m not stupid._

_If you want to talk to him, fucking call him, don’t shit on his career._

_If I wanted to talk to him, I would’ve._

**Kevin [23:17]**

_Right. Cause this is what you do. Adulting._

Andrew growled and opened twitter again. 

**@AMinyard** Oh, look, **@NeilJos10** CAN shut up. It’s a medical miracle.

 **@NeilJos10 @AMinyard** Fuck off, hobbit. 

The laugh bubbled in Andrew’s throat. Then he was laughing with his face buried in the couch cushions. Matt had made Neil watch The Lord of the Rings back in PSU, and Neil’s eyes were so wide and ridiculous when he watched the landscape scenes of the Shire. 

Andrew didn’t know how long he’d suffocated the manic laughter into his couch, but he knew his head hurt. His chest hurt. Everything fucking hurt. He pulled a knife out and slid down to the floor. 

His phone buzzed on the table but Andrew didn’t care. How was he supposed to do that until Neil backed out of the stupid reunion? How was he supposed to pour venom on him, even on fucking social media, when every word landed in his own guts like a knife wound?

Andrew slipped the wristband on his left hand down and pressed the blade to his skin, not hard enough to cut, but enough to feel the pressure. 

_Breathe. Fucking breathe, Andrew._

His hand trembled. He dropped the knife down and pulled his phone from the table. No. He had a deal with Aaron. One that he could actually keep this time. One that didn’t involve Neil fucking Josten. Andrew had promised he wouldn’t do anything stupid again. And if he wanted to, he’d talk to Aaron about it. This was Aaron’s condition to let Andrew off the hook about seeing a psychiatrist and taking antidepressants again.

 _Missed call:_ Doppelgänger

 _Missed call:_ Doppelgänger

 _Missed call:_ Doppelgänger

**Doppelgänger [23:42]**

_Talk to me_

**Doppelgänger [23:44]**

_Andrew_

**Doppelgänger [23:46]**

_You promised_

**Doppelgänger [23:50]**

_Pick the fuck up or I’m sending Matt over._

_I’m here. I’m ok. If you send Matt here, I’ll stab him._

_You’ve been warned._

**Doppelgänger [23:54]**

_No, you won’t. You secretly like him, you troll._

_Unverifiable._

**Doppelgänger [23:54]**

_Talk about it?_

Andrew wasn’t used to those conversations. He never wanted to talk to Aaron like this. He was his brother, not a fucking shrink. But Aaron wouldn’t leave him the fuck alone. He’d talked to Bee, to the doctors, to fuck knows who else, and he wouldn’t back off. So, at the end Andrew just gave up and played along. In all honesty, he wasn’t _completely_ opposed to this.

Aaron had never cared much about Andrew’s feelings. God, for the most part he’d assumed Andrew didn’t have any. But as much as he hated having his chest open and his heart beating outside of his body for his brother to dissect, he hated the look on Aaron’s face when Andrew saw him in that hospital. The pure fear in his eyes, the grief and impending shadows of panic for almost losing Andrew. He never meant to do this to Aaron. 

**Doppelgänger [23:58]**

_Are you bleeding from anywhere?_

_No._

Bee was teaching him those dumb questions to ask and Aaron was an excellent student. Damn both of them.

**Doppelgänger [23:59]**

_Does anything hurt?_

_Everything._

**Doppelgänger [00:00]**

_1-10?_

_6_

**Doppelgänger [00:01]**

Pick up. 

Andrew counted to three before picking up. He didn’t want to talk about _feelings_. He didn’t want to have feelings to start with. 

_“So.”_ Aaron cleared his throat. “ _Have I told you the story of this one time I watched Kevin trip on his own feet? Fell on the court, almost broke his nose and then tried to play it out like he meant to do exactly that cause it was a raven’s thing?”_

“No.” Andrew laughed weakly. 

“ _Well, that’s basically it, but I can describe it in more detail._ ”

“Talk about dead people.”

“ _You’re awful_ ,” Aaron said and that horrible concern soaked his voice again. 

Andrew fell asleep listening to shit about autopsies.

  
  
  


_Nov 15_

**_From:_ ** _me <aminyard@gmail.com> _

**_To:_ ** _doppelganger <aaron.min@gmail.com> _

**_Subject:_ ** _RE: madman log, I hate you for that_

_Adulting: check. Did laundry. Happy now?_

_Sometimes Bee told me that I didn’t let myself have the things I deserved. The thing is I never thought I deserved much. You’re a dick. I’m a total idiot for saying yes to this. I hate you and Bee both._

**_From:_ ** _me <aaron.min@gmail.com> _

**_To:_ ** _grumpy clone <aminyard@gmail.com> _

**_Subject:_ ** _RE: madman log, I hate you for that_

_No, you don’t. You love both of us._

_Gold star for the laundry, you totally useless excuse of an adult._

_Bee is right. You know, one time…_

_someone told me you take shit care of yourself and I didn’t give it much thought back then, cause you know …_

_I fucking hated him? Anyways, it’s true. It’s a weird thing._

_You’re so good at protecting everyone else, but the one time you wanted to protect yourself you did more harm than anyone else could’ve done to you._

_Think about it._

_Nov 16_

**_From:_ ** _me <aminyard@gmail.com> _

**_To:_ ** _doppelganger <aaron.min@gmail.com> _

**_Subject:_ ** _RE: madman log, I hate you for that_

_What are you trying to say?_

  
  


**_From:_ ** _me <aaron.min@gmail.com> _

**_To:_ ** _grumpy clone <aminyard@gmail.com> _

**_Subject:_ ** _RE: madman log, I hate you for that_

_You’re smart enough to figure it out._

  
  


Andrew sighed. He never signed up for a smartass asshole twin. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Those types of conversations were never supposed to happen between Aaron and him. 

Whatever. 

New day, new twitter attack. Andrew was going to force Neil out of the stupid reunion one petty tweet at a time. 

He’d planned the perfect retort in his head while brewing coffee. It was so good, even Josten would appreciate it. After he broke a mug in a wall or something when he read it. 

Andrew opened the twitter app on his phone and the first thing that the blasted shit generator shoved in his face was a picture of Josten and Cristian Diaz, shoulder to shoulder, Diaz placing a kiss on Neil’s head after a game. 

Andrew’s blood turned to slush. 

Objectively, it was a totally chaste, friendly even, kiss. But the part of Andrew’s brain that saw reason shut down completely, leaving his thoughts to push him precariously close to an edge he wasn’t sure he could walk back from. 

He couldn’t breathe. The vision of Diaz’s lips on Neil’s, hands on his hips, fingers tangled in Neil’s hair. Andrew wanted to scream. 

He pushed his back hard down into the couch cushion. Fuck practice. He wanted to melt down into the couch and die and screw the sucker who found him here in a week or so. 

The text under the picture said “Exy bromance or is it something else?”

Fucking. People. 

Andrew’s phone was vibrating to no end on the floor where he’d dropped it. 

He stared at the ceiling. 

He shouldn’t care. 

He shouldn’t.

He _didn’t_ care. 

The room spiraled in darkness. Apart from the single spot on the ceiling where Andrew focused all his attention, everything else sunk in tunnel vision haze. 

Air didn’t reach Andrew’s lungs. Every breath felt like swallowing glass shards. Andrew knew the signs of an impending panic attack intimately, but it didn’t mean he could do anything to stop the slide downhill. 

Breathe in. One, two, three, four.

Breathe out. One, two, three, four. 

Repeat. 

The stupid phone kept buzzing. 

Andrew gripped the edge of the couch cushion struggling to keep himself grounded. Gradually, his lungs worked again. Shallow breaths at first, then a little deeper, until he could sit up again. 

Andrew reached for his phone and dialed Aaron without reading the messages. 

He had a fucking promise to keep.


	5. Fractures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Foxes reunion doesn't go as planned. Shocking :D

_Dec 4_

_Foxes Reunion Banquet Hall_

_If you ditch me here with all those assholes, I’ll make you a ring bearer at my wedding._

It was nearly 8 PM and Aaron was getting a little nervous. Not that he expected Andrew to back out of the meeting. It would bruise his brother’s idiotic pride too much to let Josten think he somehow _made him_ skip the reunion. 

Andrew took 5 minutes to respond. 

**Andrew [19:49]**

_You haven’t even proposed yet. And who said I was coming to your wedding?_

_You did. Though you might have been drunk but it’s still a promise._

_Where are you?_

**Andrew [19:51]**

_Coming. Shut up._

Aaron looked at Josten across the table. The only seat left empty was the one in front of him, right in his face. By Aaron’s brilliant design, of course. Andrew had spent an alarming amount of time in college just staring at Josten’s stupid face. Aaron thought forcing his brother to look at it for an entire evening might just stir something inside him, deep enough to push him into doing something. _Anything._

Objectively, Aaron knew Neil wouldn’t make the first step. Not when Andrew did anything he could think of to put him down. This was how break-ups worked. The one who fucked up was the one to fix it. Except, Andrew was such a headstrong asshole, he would let himself burn to the ground before he yielded. 

It was a dangerous game to play him like that considering Andrew’s current state of mind. But Neil’s absence in his life was a big part of said state of mind, and, besides, Aaron talked it through with Bee. He had it under control. Andrew called, texted, gave him daily “reports” of his most disturbing thoughts. Andrew had _promised_. 

Aaron knew better than anyone how much an Andrew promise was worth. His brother wouldn’t break it. Not now, not ever. 

It was safe. 

He had it under control. 

He _did._

He’d fix it. 

Aaron drowned the surge of panic in his stomach with a shot of whiskey, and looked back at his phone. 

*****

In all honesty, Andrew did want to see the Foxes. He’d never admit that out loud but he did. There was only one problem with this whole plan and no amounts of alcohol could dull the effect said problem had on Andrew. 

He missed it more than anything he’d ever missed in his life. The house in Columbia, that stupid dorm with Neil and Kevin, and Aaron and Nicky, and Renee. He missed home. And damn it, this was home. 

His heartbeat was a mad stutter in his chest before he opened the door to the banquet hall. A huge banner hung from the ceiling, bright orange with bold black letters, reading WELCOME HOME, FOXES!

Nicky’s squeal rose above all other sounds. Andrew could not believe he flew from Germany for this. The original Foxes had a table in the center, and Andrew’s eyes immediately landed on the red curls. 

There was one seat left, right across from Neil. God. Fucking. Damn it!

Andrew couldn’t breathe. He clenched his jaw and forced himself to let in a slow stream of air. _Ok good, keep it in, four seconds in, four seconds out._

Andrew couldn’t fall apart now, not in front of everyone, and definitely not in front of Neil. He tapped his fingers to his temple and gave his mocking salute that used to drive Neil crazy. Judging by the way Neil looked at him, it still did. 

“Andrew,” Wymack rose from his chair to shake his hand. 

He looked good. No sign of almost being peeled off the road merely a few months ago. The man had added another tattoo to his ink-crowded forearms, something that looked suspiciously like a crown and the letter K. Sentimental old bastard. 

He gave Renee a quick hug, Dan flashed a radiant grin, Matt nodded from his seat, Kevin gave one of his cold quick nods, Nicky was all over him trying to hug him before Andrew pushed him gently away, Allison muttered “look at that, a full set of monsters.” And Andrew was home. 

He hated those assholes, but he was home. 

He sank in his seat between Kevin and Aaron, and... Fucking. Hell. Neil was right in front of his face, slightly flushed and nervous and uncomfortable and _gorgeous_. 

Andrew drowned the urge to touch his face in a full glass of fancy bourbon. 

In an hour they were all caught up on the _when_ s and _where_ s and _how_ s. Social media didn’t leave much room for surprises. Nicky fell back to his habit of trying to make people dance, pulling Allison and Renee away from the table. Kevin was in the middle of a heated conversation with Waymack and Dan about the future Foxes. Dan clearly intended to come back here one day, and Andrew couldn’t think of one thing that wouldn’t work about it. She’d make a perfect Foxes coach. 

Matt put an arm on the back of Neil’s chair, possessively pulling him a little closer, and listened to Aaron drill about medical school. Andrew blocked out their voices, his eyes were glued on Neil’s face. 

Neil shifted uncomfortably in his seat as if he couldn’t bear the weight of Andrew’s gaze. Did Andrew still have any effect on Neil? He remembered how it felt to reduce the striker to a babbling mess with his mouth, how he made him tremble with his fingertips. 

Neil gulped down the content of his glass. Andrew was already four drinks in and by the looks of it, he wasn’t going to last the night without drinking himself under the table. His skin was buzzing with Neil’s closeness. 

Matt threw a warning look his way every now and then, and pressed his hand harder into Neil’s shoulder. Andrew considered for a moment, then snatched the bottle of whiskey Neil had poured from earlier and nodded towards his glass. Neil pushed it a little closer and watched the amber liquid fill half of it. 

Andrew was watching him like Neil would disappear if he stopped. Two years didn’t change his face, except the scars were smoother. Aaron had introduced Neil to scar creams back in college and they had significantly helped the burn scar on his cheek. Neil met his gaze, sending Andrew’s heart in his throat. That fucking blue was going to kill him. 

Kevin cleared his throat next to him. 

“Andrew, want to give Dan your input on handling grumpy shits on the team?” 

Andrew shot him a vicious look. 

“Awww, you’re _still_ grumpy!” Dan scoffed. “Thought adult life might change you, but nah. Team grumpy shit for life.”

Andrew flipped her off. 

“Not at all a way to treat a lady, dude.” That was Matt. 

“ _Anyway_ ,” Dan said pointedly. “Neil, love, Matty said you signed with Nike. That’s… wow!”

Neil laughed and hid his face behind his palm. “Yeah. Well. They were the only ones who put a clause in my contract that they won’t computer edit my photos and cover my scars.”

Matt nodded approvingly, and Andrew felt something in his chest terrifyingly close to a spark of happiness. Neil deserved it. He deserved to be seen and accepted as he was—scarred, but surviving, fighting, every day, every second, authentic, beautiful, real, gorgeous. Andrew was happy that they wouldn’t filter everything Neil Josten was through society’s impotent normal-and-accepted-beauty lens. 

The words pushed at his throat, and before Andrew let something totally pathetic come out of his mouth, he bit down his tongue, took a long sip of whiskey and said, “What, worried people would not recognize your stupid face without all the scars?”

God, it burned. It tasted like poison in his mouth. Matt’s eyes were wide and his cheek flushed with something Andrew would assume was anger.

Kevin shifted next to him. “Dude,” he muttered under his breath. 

Neil’s expression was carved out of ice. He’d always been great at pushing his emotions away from his face, but the heartbreak that hazed the crystal blue in his eyes almost choked Andrew. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Kevin finally snapped, dragging Andrew’s gaze away from Neil.

“It was a normal question.”

“Normal? Since when do _you_ know what normal sounds like? Have you heard any of the bullshit that comes out of your mouth?”

Andrew glared at him. He wasn’t going to get into a fight with Neil’s guard dog. Not tonight. 

When Andrew looked over to Neil again, he was gone. 

Matt sighed. “Can’t you be civil for just one fucking night?”

Aaron pressed a hand on Andrew’s back. It felt like an anchor, keeping him from drifting away into dark waters.

“Here’s the flaw in your otherwise great idea, Aaron. Your inferior copy can’t have a bunch of friends be happy without that setting off his shitty antagonism. Or is that what you wanted? Watch Andrew tear Neil apart for fun?” Kevin practically hissed.

Wait. _His_ idea? Aaron’s idea? What? 

Andrew pulled away from Aaron. “What is he talking about?”

“I… I mean umm,” Aaron stuttered. 

“You arranged this?”

“No, Andrew, no! I just… I thought it would be nice to meet up with everyone. It was just a suggestion. I didn’t… organize it or anything.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. 

Kevin huffed out an exasperated breath. 

Andrew pushed his chair back and stormed out to the back door. There was some noise behind him, someone calling his name, Waymack’s voice in confused short questions. Andrew ignored all of them and shut the back door behind him. 

He lit a cigarette, took a drag and threw it on the ground. Pulled another one from the packet. Fucking idiot. Aaron was a complete fucking idiot! 

The sting of betrayal burned in his stomach. He knew his brother didn’t mean him any harm, he knew when the cloud of blind fury dissolved, he would see this for what it was; a sentimental streak from Aaron’s part for the years he’d spent with all these people. But right now, he saw red, and nothing fucking mattered. 

Andrew didn’t have even a few minutes to put his anger under control when Aaron burst the door open. 

“Are you seriously mad at me for wanting to see my college friends?”

“Is this really what tonight is about?” Andrew stepped closer to his brother and pushed him hard. Aaron took two unsteady steps back. 

“What the fuck else would it be about?”

Such a lousy liar. Aaron couldn’t lie with a straight face to save his life. 

“Did you _want_ me to be in the same room with Josten?”

“What? Andrew, no!”

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Aaron!” Fuck. Andrew didn’t mean to shout. He never did.

Aaron looked at him, eyes wide, those same shadows he had in his eyes in the hospital months ago darkened his face again. “I… It’s not… I thought you two could stay in the same room together every once in a while. Just that. For your own sakes.”

“You don’t get to decide this for me.”

“Yeah, I… I understand that. But…”

“There’s no _but_ , shithead. What are you now, some miracle worker matchmaker? I want nothing to do with Josten, you little fuck, got it?”

Andrew saw the second Aaron lost it. His guilt melted away, his eyes blazed with a fire his twin rarely let out. 

“You’re such a shit, Andrew! You don’t get to say that! You fucking don’t! I had to watch you hooked to a dozen fucking wires and wait to see if you _ever_ woke up again! Do you even remember what you said to me when you woke up? Cause I sure as hell fucking do! It was _his_ name. Your drug-infused moronic brain came up with his name first. 

“So don’t fucking tell me you don’t want anything! Don’t tell me you don’t care! Don’t tell me you’re fucking _fine_ without him!” Aaron was shouting now. “Because if you were, you wouldn’t do that! You wouldn’t fucking try to kill yourself if you were fine!”

“Andrew…” Someone’s breathless whisper broke the two seconds of deadly silence. 

Andrew turned to find Nicky and Kevin staring at him as if he were a ghost. Fucking perfect. As if he wasn’t already drenched in enough pity from Aaron to tolerate their emotional breakdown. 

Nicky’s eyes were already filled with tears. The shock on Kevin’s face mixed with hurt and… 

Shit. Shit. Shit. Kevin would probably tell Josten now. Just… great. 

Andrew took a step closer and narrowed his eyes. He couldn’t let that happen.

“Kevin, if you open your fucking mouth about this, I swear I’ll—”

“Oh, get over yourself!” Aaron snapped. “What, you think Neil doesn’t know? You think that Neil I’ll-let-my-father-kidnap-me-for-my-teammates Josten wasn’t in that hospital with the first fucking flight to Atlanta? Get your head out of your ass, Andrew!”

“You told him?”

“I didn’t have to tell him anything. He was in your room. He saw you. And I’m pretty sure he threatened a nurse to tell him every detail about your condition.”

“Right.” Andrew swallowed. 

_Just wake up, Drew. Don’t do this to me._

It wasn’t a dream then. Andrew’s chest felt like a locked cage, his heart throwing itself madly into the metal bars. He couldn’t breathe. 

He pushed past Kevin and Nicky, found his car and drove away. 

*****

The night after the reunion, Kevin found Neil on the floor in their hotel room at four in the morning. He slid off the bed and walked closer, slow and silent steps as if the smallest sound would set off Neil to run away. 

“Hey.” Kevin sat down and touched Neil’s shoulder. Tears carved paths on the sides of his face. “Wanna talk?”

Neil shook his head.

“Want me to kill him? I mean… it’s not like I know the mafia or anything.” Kevin let out a weak laugh. 

“ _Your_ father’s not a gangster, dickhead. Don’t play hitman.”

“Seriously, though. Do you need anything?”

“No.” Neil shifted a little, pushing himself up on his elbows. “I just thought… I don’t know. I thought we could talk like normal people.”

“Have you two ever talked like normal people? You literally spent most of your relationship telling people you’re not together.”

Neil snorted. “Ok. Fair. But still. I haven’t done anything. Why does he fucking hate me now? He wanted out and I let him go.”

“He doesn’t hate you.”

“Right. _This_ is how you talk to a person you don’t hate.”

“Well, it’s Andrew, it could always be a love declaration.”

“Don’t joke about this, Kev.”

Kevin grabbed Neil’s arm and pushed him up. “Come on. Bed.”

Neil growled.

“You didn’t tell me he tried to… that he…”

Neil looked at him with a shock crawling in his expression. “How’d you…”

“Aaron. I heard them fight with Andrew and he said it.”

“I didn’t think he’d want anyone to know about it.”

“Right.” Kevin pushed Neil toward his bed, one hand pressed steadily on his back. “Get some sleep, okay?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Then talk about something until you get tired.”

“Unlikely, but ok. We can talk about how your embarrassing crush is getting out of control.” Kevin slapped his shoulder and Neil laughed.

“You’re such a shit.”

Neil climbed in his bed, turned to his side and made a face at Kevin.

“I know. I know. So… You two kissed yet?” Neil was chuckling like a gossipy teenager now. 

“Shut up.”

“Hmm, that would be a no. Are you still secretly smelling his hair when you hug him or he’s caught you out on this shit?”

“Shut uuuup.”

“Seriously dude, that’s creepy.”

“Please. Shut up.”

Neil laughed and talked about Exy drills instead. But even through his laughs and seemingly enthusiastic Exy talk, he sounded wrecked. He sounded like a part of him was ripped out from his body. 

And what if Aaron had a fucking point?

What if Andrew and Neil could function in the same space together just well enough to be… fine?

What if...


	6. The walls we build around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas Banquet. When has a Christmas banquet ever gone smoothly for Neil?  
> This might be an exception.

December was a shitshow. Starting with Foxes reunion, everything in Neil’s schedule aligned in a wicked way so he ended up having maximum Andrew exposure.

Fuck. That. 

He was going to make it without an incident. He had to.

The night before the professional Exy Christmas banquet, Neil sat in his hotel room in Seattle, scrolling through his twitter feed, while Kevin raved over last night’s game. The Atlanta Hawks lost, which brought on Kevin’s detailed ‘reasons for loss’ analysis. 

In any other night, Neil would be more than happy to dive in but right now his focus was all in a stupid Buzzfeed article listing tweets and bits of interviews supporting the Minyard-Josten Rivalry. The whole thing was idiotic. 

**@AMinyard** It’s a miracle **@NeilJos10** scores at all considering he doesn’t know which end of the racquet is which. 

**@AMinyard** lol. This whole game is like watching a wind-up puppy run mindlessly against the goal. 

**@NeilJos10** subtweeting? Grow a pair. 

**@AMinyard** not my fault you recognized yourself in my tweet. But hey, look, it does describe your playing style! 

**@NeilJos10** we won, asshole

A bit of an interview after one of Andrew’s games:

_Reporter: How do you feel about the rematch against the Dallas Cardinals? Does Josten stand a chance against you?_

_Andrew: He never has._

Photos from a fundraiser campaign in a pet shelter. One with Neil holding a cat. One with Andrew rubbing a cat behind the ears. One of Andrew and Neil glaring at each other in the lobby. 

A photo from the Foxes reunion. Allison hugging Neil, wearing a #TeamJosten shirt.

“Hey, are you even listening?” Kevin snapped his attention back to the room. 

“Sorry. I… I’m gonna go for a run.”

“It’s Seattle. It’s fucking freezing outside, Neil.”

“I know. It will be a short one.”

Kevin sighed. “Take your phone.”

Neil put on two hoodies and took the stairs down to the hotel lobby. He didn’t lie to Kevin. He wasn’t even going to run that much, just a couple of laps around the hotel. The frosty air bit into his cheeks effectively clearing the fog out of his head. 

After the second lap, he went back inside. A familiar voice from the lobby pulled him closer to the information desk. 

“Hey, man,” Cristian said. 

“Umm, problems with your room?”

“Nah, just wanted more towels. Did you seriously go running right now?”

Neil grinned. “Yeah… not my best idea. I need something warm.”

“Sure.”

The receptionist turned back to Cristian after hanging up the phone. “They will go right up to your room, sir.”

“Thanks,” Cristian said with that smile of his that people found endearing. He turned to Neil. “Pick a couch. I’ll be right back.”

Neil nodded. The lobby was huge. Really. Neil had been to many hotels but this one was something. Several seating corners were assembled in the large space, each one with a different design. Neil picked the furthest one to a side door and slumped to the soft velvet cushions. 

Cristian came back a few minutes later, holding two cups of tea. He handed one to Neil and sat next to him. 

“You’re pissed.”

Neil hated that Cristian saw through his walls. The backliner had learned to read him mere months after he started playing for the Cardinals. It wasn’t that Neil minded having a friend outside of the Foxes, it wasn’t that. But he’d spent most of his life hiding. Truths, feelings, everything. And Cristian read Neil’s emotions like everything inside him was laid on the floor in front of him. 

“Mhm,” Neil took off one hoodie and blew into his tea. 

“The Minyard shit? I saw the article.” 

“Yeah. Let’s not talk about it.”

“Sure. Sure. But if you want me to, I’ll find him at the banquet tomorrow and trip him or something. Or punch him in the face.”

Neil laughed. Good luck with that. Andrew would probably stab Cristian before he had the chance to swing to his face. 

“We have to try this drill you suggested during the last practice. With Meyers out for two months, we’re stuck with Adler at goal, and… okay, I’m not going to shit on our goalie but Adler isn’t Meyers. And I really, really, _really_ want to win again against the fucking Hawks.”

Neil put a hand over his mouth to hide a giggle. Cristian Diaz’s pettiness against Andrew was endearing. Ever since the rivalry hashtag appeared on Twitter, Cristian had been Neil’s most vocal defender. Neil considered telling him what this was truly about but there was no point really, and the fewer people knew about his past with Andrew, the better. What people didn’t know could never be used against Neil. Or Andrew in that matter. 

“Yeah, Jeremy Knox will kill us.”

“I mean… Jeremy Knox can kill _me._ If he wants to.” Cristian smirked. “Probably in a different way.”

“You’re impossible.” 

Cristian laughed, looking at Neil’s blank face, and bumped his shoulder into Neil’s in a playful rebuke. 

“Okay, fine, fine, I’m sorry. But you gotta give it to him. He’s one fine looking motherfucker and his ass is like—”

Neil clapped his hand over Cristian’s mouth. 

“God, please don’t. I don’t even want to hear this.”

Neil cringed. He could never understand that urge people had to describe their attraction to other people in a way that reduced them to a piece of meat.

Cristian pulled Neil’s hand off his face and pushed into his shoulder, laughing. The winter chill blew inside the lobby from the open side door as someone walked in, carrying with them the smell of cigarette smoke and frost. 

Neil’s heart shuddered in his chest when he met the man’s eyes. The striking hazel, all sharp edges and soft fire. Andrew looked down to where Cristian was still holding his hand, then up to their touching shoulders, and squinted his eyes. 

Neil swallowed. Cristian stiffened next to him, then shifted his body in a ready-to-jump position as he focused on Andrew. Andrew’s usually unfazed expression changed into a mocking sneer. One that resembled his drug-induced manic smile. 

The scent of cigarettes that lingered behind turned Neil’s inside to a mush. He watched Andrew walk away, barely managing to breathe. 

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure. I’m fine.”

Cristian laughed. “Man, Day keeps making fun of you for saying that but I think he might have a point.”

Neil forced a smile and sipped his tea until the cigarette smell dissolved into the overly sweet air freshener in the lobby. 

  
  


_Dec 16_

The night of the banquet started as expected: hugs from Matt, easy laughs with Jeremy Knox, Neil sending a couple of jabs in Kevin’s ribs as he made a point of eye-fucking Jeremy across the hall (he denied it), Cristian swapping the whiskey Meyers poured to Neil with ginger ale. 

Neil had already had a couple of the actual stuff, but having more than that was not his idea of a good night. His chest was warm and his neck tingling while he watched Andrew talk to the Hawks' striker, Dominic Lee. Whatever the striker was saying, it made Andrew’s lips twitch in a small smile. 

Riya threw a whiskey shot back and pulled Cristian from his seat. 

“Come on, gorgeous bastard, you promised me a lot of dancing!” Riya patted his shoulder a little harder than necessary, but she was _always_ a little harder than necessary. Part of the Hennessy charm. 

Cristian was Riya’s dance partner at every event. There had been rumors years ago, but then there had been rumors about Cristian and many, many Exy players. The man was a total flirt, even Neil could tell. Riya had shut them down when she posted a picture of her wife and her, with their wedding rings on focus. That shut the fuckers up. 

Neil scanned the hall for Kevin but he was nowhere to be seen. The chatter was getting too much, the music too loud. Neil headed to the bar for another ginger ale. 

Halfway there, someone bumped into him spilling a drink on his shirt. 

“What the f—” Neil pulled away and froze to Andrew’s gaze pinning him in his spot. 

“You don’t get body-checked enough on the court, Josten?”

“You bumped into me.”

“Debatable.” 

Neil sighed. “Whatever. Can you move? You’re standing in my way.”

“Maybe if you ask nicely.”

“Hey, hey, is there a problem here?” Cristian’s voice came from behind Neil. 

Cristian was by Neil’s side in a heartbeat, hand on his shoulder, ready to push him behind.

“No. We’re good,” Neil said, pressing the back of his hand against Cristian’s chest. 

Andrew gave Neil a head-to-toe look and stepped aside. 

Cristian followed Neil to the bar. 

“If that fucker is causing you trouble—”

“I can handle Minyard.”

“I know, I just mean—”

“Look, I appreciate the gesture but I’m not a child. I’m just short. I can deal with him. And whoever has a problem with me in fact.”

Cristian sighed. “Ok. Sorry. I don’t mean to look like an overprotective asshole or anything. There’s Kevin for that.”

Neil laughed at that. Cristian had a point. Kevin did look like he was a guard dog, always alert of Neil’s surroundings, always ready to go for someone’s throat. It was as if sometimes he forgot who Neil was, who his family had been. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself. 

“Go back to dancing, Diaz, or Riya will bench you.”

“She wouldn’t dare.” Cristian smirked but backed away and joined the Cardinals’ captain on the dance floor. 

Neil ignored the look the bartender gave him when he asked to fill in a whiskey glass with ginger ale. Whatever.

Andrew sat on the Hawks’ table, his back turned to Neil, and Neil almost tripped on his feet when he saw their striker’s hand snake around Andrew’s shoulders. 

The man was talking, gesturing his free hand in front of Andrew’s face. His head was too close. His smile too wide. His goddamn lips were too close to Andrew’s face, and Neil wanted to throw the glass at his fucking head. 

Neil pushed down the wave of thick, black heat in his chest, left his glass on one of the tables, and headed to the back door. 

Outside, the chilly air was a balm on his skin, subsiding the fire raging in his body. There was a rail and a smoking area. Neil walked along the railing and around the corner and found a stone-faced Kevin Day leaning back against the wall. He released small, shallow puffs of air. His face was paler than usual but a little flush crawled high in his cheeks. 

He barely reacted when he saw Neil, the smallest spark of recognition in his eyes. 

“Are you having a stroke?” Neil said, squinting his eyes. 

“I… Jeremy… kissed me. No. I kissed Jeremy.”

“No shit.” Neil smiled. 

He honestly had no idea why Kevin was so fazed about it; it had been a thing for years. They were both gravitating around each other for a long time; Jeremy was the sun to Kevin’s little, grumpy planet. Neil had suspected this was one of the reasons why Kevin and Jean had broken up. 

“This is bad, Neil. Really bad. Oh, fuck. I need to come up with a really good apology for this shit.”

“Umm… okay? Why?”

“Why what? Did you not hear when I said I kissed him?”

Neil snorted. Kevin was being ridiculous. “I did. Why do you think Jer wants you to apologize for it?”

“Because it was stupid. I was stupid. Of course, he does! We’re friends, Neil! And I might have fucked it up. Spectacularly.”

Kevin’s breaths grew heavier, faster. His face looked wrecked. “And then I ran away like a fucking emo teenager, oh, God.”

Neil grabbed Kevin’s arms and shook him a little. “Hey. Stop it. Look at me.”

Kevin leveled his eyes on Neil’s. 

“Look, relationship advice from me is like asking a vegetarian about steak. But I know that Jeremy doesn’t want you to apologize. Maybe a little bit for the running away part.”

“You don’t know that. I don’t wanna fuck up our friendship, Neil. It means a lot to me.”

“I know. But, Kev… are you seriously telling me you don’t know that this thing with Jeremy is a _thing_ for years? This isn't a one-sided crush. That’s the longest foreplay in the history of time.”

Kevin shook his head and cracked a startling low laugh. 

“Oh, why, hello, Allison, long time no see,” Kevin said. 

“Fuck you.” Neil laughed. 

“Ok, so… I panicked a little. In my defense, it’s Jeremy!”

“For two people who have cutouts of each other in your lockers, you’re total idiots about this whole thing.”

Kevin pushed Neil back a little. 

“I do not have a cutout of Jeremy!”

“You’re keeping the Sports Illustrated issue with him on the cover in your desk.” 

“You’re a menace.” 

Neil barely heard the footsteps behind him through the laughter. 

Someone cleared his throat behind him, and judging by Kevin’s face, Neil didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. 

“Can I have a minute?” Andrew said.

Neil’s breathe caught at the sound of his voice. 

“Umm.. yeah… Sure, I’ll… see you back inside.”

*********

That was it. Andrew wasn’t backing out from this conversation. He’d been mad at Aaron’s stupidity to play him for the reunion and it took him four long conversations with Bee to get in terms with it, but he finally got it. He was still pissed at his idiotic twin but he understood. 

And maybe Aaron had a point. Maybe Bee had a point. 

One conversation. It didn’t mean anything. Neil wouldn’t miraculously love him again, and Andrew wasn’t really sure he wanted him to, but it was something. Maybe Neil’s presence in Andrew’s life would be a good thing. Andrew had enough experience wanting Neil and not touching him. All this time before their first kiss on the rooftop. He could do this. He could talk to him, have a tiny spark of Neil’s light back in his life. 

Kevin gave Andrew a warning glance before he left. It was just Andrew and Neil. It felt like someone had sucked the air out of the space around them. 

They stared at each other for a long moment. The words pushed at Andrew’s throat and then faded. He wasn’t really sure what to say, what to do. Not when Neil looked at him like that. Like he’d punched a hole in his chest. 

And it was… it was fine. It was perfectly fine if Neil never forgave him for what he’d done. But Andrew wanted more. He couldn’t do this anymore. 

“I… was a dick at the reunion,” Andrew finally said. 

Neil cocked an eyebrow. “Is that your version of an apology?”

“You can take it for whatever you like.”

“Great. Thanks. You can go back inside and spare yourself from looking at my face.”

Oh, shit, Neil was never letting this go. 

Andrew pulled a cigarette out of his packet and offered it to Neil. The redhead shook his head. Andrew leaned against the railing. They were almost face to face now. Neil shifted nervously at his spot against the wall, looking at his feet. 

“So, are you and the frisky dude together?”

Goddamn it, Andrew! He pulled another drag of the cigarette wishing it could set him on fire from the inside and kill him so he wouldn’t have to hear the answer. 

“I don’t see how this is any of your business.” 

“Neil…”

Neil’s head snapped up, his eyes burned. “What are you doing?”

“Talking.”

“Talking. You haven’t said anything to me in two fucking years, Andrew. Unless you count the shit you've been pouring on me since that game few months ago. And if you count this for a small talk, please see a better therapist.” 

Neil’s breaths came out shaky. He was furious, Andrew could see all his tells tangling together in that beautiful rage-fire that was Neil Josten. 

“I don’t count it. I’m talking now. If you want me to leave you alone, say the word and I’ll leave.”

That took Neil by surprise. He stared at Andrew, eyes wandering up and down his body, sending a lazy thrill down Andrew’s spine. 

“Don’t.”

“Okay.” Andrew put out the cigarette on the railing and pulled out another. “Aaron told me you were in the hospital.”

“Yes. I didn’t… I wasn’t going to… I haven’t said anything to anyone if that’s what you want to know. I just had to know you’d be fine.”

“Why?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions.” Neil threw Andrew’s words back at him like a fire grenade. 

“Don’t make me,” Andrew shot back. 

Neil sighed. “Just because we’re not together anymore doesn’t mean I stopped caring. It doesn’t work like that.”

“Doesn’t it? I hurt you, you were supposed to hate me for it and move on.”

“Did you?”

“Did I hate you?”

“Move on.”

Andrew felt the trap snap around him. Neil’s gaze on him was too much, so was the warmth radiating from his body. Everything about Neil was _too much_. That had been what drew Andrew in when he’d met Neil, but now it felt like a curse he couldn’t break. 

Andrew looked away, releasing a long stream of smoke. The silence grew heavier. 

Andrew broke first. 

“I’ll trade you truth for truth.”

“Feeling nostalgic?”

“If you want to call it that.”

Neil reached out his hand and waited until Andrew handed him the cigarette. “Ok, you go first.”

“No.” Andrew lit up another cigarette. “Is the answer to your question.” 

_No, I didn't move on. No, I never stopped loving you. No, I don't want to ever walk away again._ He couldn't say any of it. He had no right to.

He took a moment to study Neil’s eyes. Whatever he was hoping to find there, he didn’t. 

“My turn. Are you and Diaz together?”

“No," Neil said sternly. 

“Hm.”

“Would it bother you if we were?”

Andrew shot him an irritated look. “Bother isn’t the right word.”

“You always pull out semantics shit when you don’t want to answer.”

“It’s not my fault you ask the wrong questions.”

Neil threw the cigarette down. 

“Whatever, Andrew. I should probably go.”

And that was it. Nothing more he could do to save this. To have _more_. Neil turned to go. Andrew watched him take a step, then another one, and the dam broke inside of him. 

He caught Neil’s shoulder and pulled him back. He was in his face now, and fuck it all if it burned him to death to be that close. 

“It bothers me. It shouldn’t but it does.”

“You’re right. It shouldn’t. You looked pretty cozy with your striker back there.”

Andrew huffed a laugh. “Fair.” 

Neil’s face flushed a deeper shade of red, and Andrew wanted, so fucking much, he wanted to kiss him. 

“Here’s the thing, Neil. I wanted to come to the Foxes reunion. This is why I did. I missed them. I missed home. And you, no matter what happened between us, are a part of this. I just want to talk. That’s all.”

“You just want to talk,” Neil repeated in a dull voice.

“Yes. We don’t have to be… It doesn’t have to be like this. We can talk like civilized people. Former teammates or… whatever.”

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine.”

Later that night, Andrew’s phone buzzed and for the first time in two years it was the name he wanted to see on the display. 

**Neil [01:17]**

_I don’t know if you deleted my number or something, but here. - Neil_

_I have not. But thanks._

Warm wind filled Andrew’s entire body. He was featherlight, foam floating in the ocean, a dry leaf picked up by the fall breeze, a fucking weightless cloud. 

**Neil [01:20]**

_Does us talking mean you will stop tweeting shit about me?_

_No._

**Neil [01:22]**

_Why the fuck not???_

_Because it’s fun._

**Neil [01:23]**

_I hope you enjoy losing to my team, dick._

_Take the game in Jan as my revenge._

_Keep dreaming._

  
  


_Dec 19_

**Neil [06:46]**

_[link attached]_

_Did you seriously think it was a good idea to text me Exy shit at 6 in the morning???_

_I don’t need “goaling tips", you dick! I need to chop off one hand so you can score against me._

**Neil [06:51]**

_Exy is important at any time of the day._

_It’s almost 7._

  
  


_Dec 25_

_Merry Christmas._

**Neil [10:16]**

_[image attached]_

Andrew stared at the picture, trying really hard not to laugh his lungs out. And failing. Neil and Kevin had bright-red Rudolf noses, Kevin had antlers and Neil was sticking his tongue out in the photo. 

_You two are fucking imbeciles._

**Neil [10:17]**

_Age has made you boring._

_Is this a couple’s photo? Is Kevin cheating on Knox with you?_

**Neil [10:17]**

_How the fuck do you even know about Jeremy???_

_I have eyes, Neil._

  
  


_Jan 1_

**Neil [00:00]**

_Happy new year! 🎉_

Andrew looked up at the fireworks and turned the video on. He caught a particularly large flower of blue and green lights blossom in the sky and then cut the video. 

He attached it as a response to Neil’s message. 

This was fine. It was all good. Fuck the stinging feeling in his chest when Neil posted a picture of him and Cristian Diaz wearing star headbands on his twitter account. Fuck how it actually burned when Diaz posted a comment saying “we’re the hottest shit in Texas”. 

It was all good. He wasn’t falling to pieces. Aaron was right about this. 

So what if it ate him from the inside that someone else could have Neil the ways only Andrew had? Neil deserved to be happy. 

Andrew had a little piece of him and that was enough. 

He hoped it was.

Eventually, it would be. 


	7. The illusive friendzone lines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a kiss. Not the one we're hoping for.  
> Neil and Kevin have a heart-to-heart.  
> Andrew's on the losing side. Of everything.

_Jan 12_

Neil Josten was not historically great at taking care of people other than himself. The years with the Foxes had taught him a few things, though. This was why when Cristian Diaz called him dangerously drunk from a bar, Neil grabbed his car keys and left his apartment before he even hung up the phone. 

It was a fancy bar, too much glass and black leather, and too few places to hide. Cristian sat on the bar, clumsily trying to push the hand of a tall guy away from his shoulder. The asshole didn’t seem to take the hint. 

Neil headed to the bar, almost skipping. 

“Come on, man, I’ll buy you one more and I’ll take you home. You seem like you need someone to take care of you.” The man pushed his hand into Cristian’s hair. 

“Nah, I’m good, thanks.” Cristian was still struggling to get the man’s hand off his shoulder. 

“Hey, asshole, he said he’s good,” Neil hissed and pushed himself between the leather-wearing jerk and Cristian. 

Tall-and-obnoxious had the audacity to laugh at Neil’s face. 

“What are you, his boyfriend?”

“Fuck off!”

The bartender leaned over the bar. “There a problem here?”

“No. No problem. Whatever.” The man looked at Neil as if he wanted to strangle him to death and left. 

“Neilieee,” Cristian slurred. “Dude smelled l-l-like bergamot aftershave. I hate. Bergamot. Thanks.”

“Sure. No problem. Let’s get you home.”

“Dah mi’be a problem.” Cristian caught himself to the bar to keep his balance. “But if chu put ‘nough coffees in me… I might get muh car outta here.”

“Yeah. That’s exactly what’s happening.” Neil rolled his eyes. 

He wrapped an arm around Cristian’s waist and half-led, half-dragged him to the door. 

Once he managed to shove him in the passenger seat, Neil clicked the seatbelt on, leaning over him. Cristian leaned his head closer, almost bumping into Neil’s. 

“You don’t smell like bergamot.”

Neil laughed. “Thanks for the update.”

Cristian was unusually quiet for the entire drive to his apartment in downtown Dallas. He liked the noise, and crowds, the places where people could see him. That was the exact opposite of what Neil wanted. 

Cristian lived in a building with a fucking _concierge_. The fancy asshole. The man looked at Neil, then his eyes landed on Cristian and he nodded in greeting. Neil had been to Cristian’s place a few times, but he couldn’t get used to the front desk scrutiny. 

When he reached Cristian’s door on the third floor, the backliner had already dug out his keys, pushing them into Neil’s hand. He leaned against the wall, watching Neil as if he knew the secret of making gold out of thin air. 

Neil pressed one hand to Cristian’s shoulder, unlocking the door with the other. Cristian pushed himself off the wall and gracelessly made his way inside. Neil followed. 

“You gonna be fine from here?”

“Mhm,” Cristian hummed. 

“Drink some water. Might help. I’m not sure, though. Not much of a drinker.”

Cristian leaned against the kitchen counter in his studio apartment, watching Neil pour a glass of water from the fridge dispenser. Cristian was being weird, Neil could tell that, but he wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or something else. He was never this quiet.

Neil felt the presence behind his back, and turned with a start. 

“Hey,” Cristian said, taking the glass from Neil’s hand. 

“Umm… Okay. So… yeah, drink your water. Go to bed. You know the drill.”

“Yeah.” Cristian placed the glass on the counter, one hand reaching for Neil’s cheek. 

Heat flushed all over Neil’s face.

“Thank you. For taking care of me.” Cristian brushed his fingertips down Neil’s cheekbone. “Again.”

“T-that’s not a problem.”

Neil’s head buzzed. He needed to get out of here. Drunk Cristian was definitely a dumb, frisky mess. Okay, objectively this wasn’t news. But he’d never crossed a line with Neil before. 

“No. You _always_ take care of me.” Cristian’s free hand caught the back of Neil’s neck.

Neil’s fingers clenched around his wrist, his nails dangerously close to digging into his skin in warning. The backliner didn’t seem to notice. Or care. Both were equally scary. 

“Okay. Cris. You’re really out of it, go to bed. I’ll check up on you tomorrow.”

“I know you will.” 

Neil was backing up to the fridge, pressing into cold metal. 

“Because you care. No one cares, Neil. But you do. And I…”

Neil opened his mouth to say something, calm him down, comfort him, _anything_. And then Cristian’s lips were on Neil’s and he had no space to back away. The heat in his cheeks crawled up to the roots of his hair, spread down to his neck. 

It wasn’t a bad kiss, if Neil could be any judge at all; it was soft and cautious and warm, but he didn’t _say yes_ to it. Yet, he hadn’t stopped it, and God, he could have. There was no point denying that. It felt… nice. And it scared the shit out of Neil. He snapped out of the shock of it, and planted his hand firmly against the backliner’s chest. 

“Cris. I can’t.”

Cristian looked at him, pulling his hands off Neil’s face. 

“Right. I’m sorry. I didn’t… Oh, shit. Okay, that was dumb. I’m really, really drunk.”

Neil forced in a deep breath. “I know. It’s fine. We’re fine.”

“No. Neil. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… push you. I…”

“Cris. Shut up. We’re fine.”

“Sure?”

“Yeah.”

When Neil finally got back to his car, his head was still buzzing. Holy shit. He desperately tried to sort out his feelings, and nothing came in order. 

He knew: one, he didn’t agree to it but it wasn’t like he pulled away when he saw where this was going; two, he hadn’t kissed anyone in two years; three, it felt nice. And that last one was what tipped the scales and sent his mind into an endless loop of short circuits. 

He drove home like a maniac, practically ran to the door and knocked on Kevin’s bedroom door so fast, Kevin opened it with a look on his face that said “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Diaz kissed me.” Neil blurted out. 

Kevin raised an eyebrow. 

“Umm.. okay?”

“He was drunk and he called me and I drove him home and then I was getting him some water and he was saying shit and then kissed me.” Neil was out of breath. 

“Cool.”

“Kevin!”

“What do you want me to do with that information?” Kevin sighed.

“You’re not surprised.”

“Why would I be surprised? The dude’s been crushing on you since forever. I’m surprised this is only happening now. Some patience!” Kevin leaned against the doorframe, scratching his head. 

“ _What_?”

“Crushing on you since forever?”

“How the fuck do you know that? No. No. Fuck that. Why didn’t you _tell_ me?”

“Neil. Okay. Do you need to have the talk again?”

Kevin pushed him back to the living room, gesturing towards the couch. As if Neil could sit still right now. 

“The talk? What am I, a teenager?”

Kevin shrugged. Neil muttered “oh my god” under his breath and poured himself a glass of water. Kevin leaned against the back of the couch, while Neil walked back and forth in the small kitchen space, drumming his fingers over the countertop as he passed along.

“You should’ve told me.”

“If I tell you about everyone who’s got a crush on you, this is going to take a while.”

Neil glared at him. 

“Okay, okay,” Kevin chuckled. “What do you want to do about it?”

“Nothing?”

“Okay. So, umm, why are you freaking out then?”

“I don’t know?” Neil nearly shouted. 

Kevin laughed louder. “That good of a kiss, huh?” 

“Fuck you, Kev!”

“Sleep on it, Neil.”

Neil sighed and leaned over the counter, looking at Kevin. 

“Because I don’t do this. And because I’ve _never_ wanted to do this, with anyone, except…” Neil swallowed. Andrew’s name stuck in his throat. 

“And now you want to?”

“No. I don’t know. It just didn’t feel… bad? It’s not supposed to…”

Kevin’s face suddenly looked so sad, Neil didn’t know what to do with it. Kevin licked his lips and fixed Neil with a stern stare.

“You don’t have to feel guilty because you had a semi-decent kiss with a guy who _likes_ you. It’s been two fucking years. You don’t owe your life to Andrew. You don’t get to wait for him to change his mind. You do what’s best for you because he’s already made his decisions.”

“I know that, Kev.”

“Do you? You carry this load of misplaced guilt and it’s fucking with your head, Neil. It’s not your fault he walked away. And it’s not your fault he…” Kevin visibly tested the words in his head, but Neil knew what he meant. He knew this was about Andrew’s suicide attempt. “It’s not your fault Andrew did what he did. You’ve got your own life, and it’s your goddamn job to do what’s best for _you_ . Stop drowning yourself in guilt you’re not supposed to feel. So if a hot guy kissed you and you liked it, then it’s your decision what to do with this. But if you decide to shut it down, don’t do it for Andrew. Do it for yourself. Because it’s what _you_ want.” 

“Thanks, Kev. I’ll… I’ll think about it.”

“Okay.” Kevin crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Just let me know if I should prepare a shovel talk.”

Neil laughed. “Asshole.”

“Oh, come on, don’t take away the small pleasures in my life.”

The thing was, Kevin was right. But that didn’t mean Neil knew what to do. He kept comparing, and that was the worst thing he could do to himself. He didn’t think there could ever be anything to beat Andrew’s kisses. He still remembered how their first kiss felt, the stutter in Neil’s heart, the soft fire taking over his body. Cristian’s kiss felt nothing like it. It was just… fine. 

“Is it the same? With Jeremy, is it the same?” Neil didn’t mean to pry, but the question bugged him too much. 

“Like with Jean? The same in what way?”

“Umm, so… you kissed, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Did it feel the same as it felt with Jean?”

Neil knew what it had been for Kevin with Jean. Part of it he'd seen for himself, most of it Kevin had told him after they grew closer. Neil knew Kevin loved Jean. It had been a rollercoaster ride for them, but Jean was... well, Jean was something. Neil was pretty sure Jean was the _something_ that changed Kevin from the emotionless Exy-obsessed cyborg he tried to fool everyone he was to the Kevin Neil got to know. Soft and warm and caring. Jean had meant the world to Kevin. Neil always wondered where Jeremy stood in the aftermath of that.

“No. Jean was… something I wasn’t supposed to have, wasn’t _allowed_ to have, ever. It was… desperate, complicated in so many ways. Everything with him felt life or death. That’s what he kissed like, too. Jeremy is… a freefall. That last second before you skydive. It’s not the same. It’s equally intense, but it’s not the same.”

“Hm.”

“Don’t compare them. That’s… I don’t know. It’s not going to do you any good. Plus the situations are totally different. You thought you were going to die when you and Andrew started your relationship; that certainly made things feel… well, more like a storm. There’s nothing wrong with having a relationship that doesn’t feel like it’s going to consume you.”

“You’re such a philosopher at night.” Neil chuckled. 

“And you’re such a shit all the time.” Kevin flicked him off and headed to his room. 

“Thanks, Kev,” Neil shouted behind him. 

“You’re an ungrateful pest, Josten.”

Neil spent the night thinking about it. Kevin was right. He should do this for himself. Andrew wasn’t his and he was never going to be his again, and Neil had the right to decide for himself. 

In the end, he decided to run. That was what he was best at. 

The next day, Cristian called him and gave him a heartfelt apology for being a dick, and Neil decided to take it. This wasn’t about Andrew.

It wasn’t. 

It was about Neil. And Neil didn’t want to kiss anyone.

_Jan 15_

**Drew [13:56]**

_Need help figuring out how to get the ball to the goal? You got 3 days_

_Dick._

**Drew [13:58]**

_Oh come on, even you can appreciate a little trash talk._

**Drew [14:35]**

_People are waiting_

_For what?_

**Drew [14:37]**

_Comeback. Look at your twitter_

_Fucking asshole!!!_

**Drew [14:41]**

_😂😈_

  
  


**@AMinyard** feeling hyped about the game on Saturday. Where else can I see **@NeilJos10** shoot and miss so. many. times?

Neil was going to kill him. It was common knowledge that Andrew Minyard had a fucked up sense of humor, but the thing was it really _was_ entertaining. People were losing their shit about the rivalry, and now that Neil knew it wasn’t because Andrew really hated him, he could finally appreciate the fun of it. 

**@NeilJos10** feeling’s mutual. Where else can I see a garden gnome play at a professional Exy match? 

**Drew [14:41]**

_Really? Height joke?_

_Who said it was a joke?_

**@AMinyard** you’re 5’3” dick!

 **@NeilJos10** exactly. And don’t you ever fucking forget it, you 5’ troll.

_Jan 18_

Neil was jumping on his heels, Kevin’s hand pushing at his shoulder to still him. He tightened his helmet and waited for their names to be called. He hadn’t seen Andrew since the Christmas banquet which wasn’t long, but there was a small jittery feeling in Neil’s stomach that he couldn’t smother. He felt it crawl to his fingertips. 

Kevin slapped his shoulder.

“I’m fine.”

“I’m shocked,” Kevin deadpanned. 

“It’s not like the last time, I can do this.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re BFFs now.” He turned to look at Neil with the most serious expression on his face. A totally fake one. “Learn better jokes, Neil.”

They called Kevin’s name. 

“Shut up. Go.”

Then Neil’s name was called and he trailed after Kevin. When Andrew took his spot, he did a two-finger beckoning gesture. 

Neil walked closer. Andrew met him halfway and pressed his racquet against Neil’s chest. 

Neil looked down. 

“For credibility,” Andrew said.

Neil fought the urge to laugh. “You need a hobby, Minyard.”

“I have one. Have you seen my twitter account?”

“Asshole.”

“Come on. Go lose.”

Neil took a few steps backward and gave him the finger with his free hand. For credibility. The audience roared. 

“You two are fucking children,” Kevin muttered in French when Neil reached his spot.

Neil locked his eyes on Andrew and something clicked in place. 

*********

  
  


The game was harsher than last time. The Cardinals backliners played combinations they hadn’t used in the last one. Not that Andrew was surprised. He knew that their better goalie, Meyers, was out. Neil and Kevin wouldn’t let their team lose like that. Andrew recognized one of the drills. Kevin had integrated a simpler version of it in the Foxes game. 

By the twentieth minute, Kevin had scored twice, and the Hawks had three goals total. 

Neil tried for yet another shot and Andrew blocked it. He grinned watching the frustration grow on Neil’s face. 

Neil had shot at Andrew’s goal 49 times when he finally, _finally_ , managed to get one shot in an angle Andrew didn’t see, above his head and to the left. Neil turned to look at him with the most shit-eating grin Andrew had ever seen, and shouted in German, “Suck it, Andrew!”

“Don’t give me ideas,” he shot back and immediately regretted it when Neil’s smile faltered. 

Fuck. It was so easy to fall back into old habits. So easy to let this feel like it did in college. Neil and Andrew, and some healthy on-court antagonism, which usually ended in the bedroom, or the locker room, or the showers. 

Neil scored one more time, five minutes into the second half. Kevin was swapped for O’Brian, and Neil used the young striker like he had in their last game, giving him detailed instructions on how to break Andrew’s defense. In all honestly, it was hard to concentrate on anyone else whenever Andrew played against Neil. He was too distracted following the redhead around the court. 

Fifteen minutes into the second half, Neil pulled off some completely mad combination, ending up face to face with Andrew. The Hawks’ backliners were useless against Neil’s speed. Becker, the Hawks’ square-jawed asshole backliner accumulating the shit attitude of five players, fumed around the court. Neil scored a third time, bringing both teams to 7:7.

On Neil’s next attack against the goal, Becker tripped him. Andrew tensed, watching Neil fall, roll over and get back on his feet in a matter of two seconds. Becker charged after him, pulled him by the back of his shirt and threw him into the plexiglass wall. It shuddered at the impact.

Neil panted, pinned to the wall by Becker’s 6’4” body. Someone was shouting. Matt came back on the court, though he wasn't playing in the second half. Becker slammed Neil against the wall one more time and let go of him. Andrew saw red. 

Kevin blocked his way to Neil, holding his shaking shoulders, saying something Andrew didn’t give a fuck to hear. Cristian Diaz, the Cardinals’ backliner, held Neil up, tossing his helmet away. Dominic was yelling something to Becker. 

Neil made a gesture he could walk and let Diaz hold him up and lead him back to the locker room. Andrew was still frozen in his spot. He waved for Dominic to come closer, his head buzzing with the shouts of the audience. 

“You okay?” Dominic said with a concerned look. 

“Get me out of the game, cap.”

“What?”

“Get me out.”

“Are you hurt, what’s going on?”

“Dom. Get me the fuck out of the court.”

“Okay, okay. Got it.”

Dominic called for a change, taking Andrew out for Ray Johnson. Andrew got to the locker room in a haze. He threw the helmet down, peeled the armor around his chest off, and considered sitting on his ass and waiting. It was the right thing to do. Neil was fine. 

He was fine. 

Of course, he was. It was Neil fucking Josten. He was _always_ fine. 

Andrew ruled out against logic and ran down the halls to the Cardinals’ corridor. The voices coming from the locker room were soft, quiet, and Andrew should absolutely get the fuck out of here. Instead, he pushed the door opened, and immediately wished he hadn’t. 

Neil was sitting on a bench, Cristian Diaz neatly behind him, pressing an ice pack over his shoulder, while the Hawks’ nurse blasted a light in Neil’s eyes, making him follow a pen around. 

The backliner looked over at Andrew, his brows furrowed, and his hand grabbed protectively for Neil’s arm. 

The fog in Andrew’s head was back. God fucking damn it! 

It was okay. Everything was fucking okay. Just… God, he wanted to chop the fucking asshole’s hand off. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Cristian hissed. 

Neil looked away from the nurse and stared at Andrew. 

“Am I good?” Neil asked the nurse.

“You might have a concussion. You’re not good until a doctor clears you. Okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure, concussion. Got it.”

Cristian rose to his feet, shoving Neil behind him. “I asked you a question, Minyard.”

Andrew was not having this shit. He didn’t care if Diaz was Neil’s… whatever. He strode over, pushing Diaz back. 

“Back off.”

Diaz caught Andrew’s shoulder, and, God, the asshole had a death wish. 

“Let go or you lose the hand. It’s up to you.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Cris,” Neil caught Diaz’s forearm and pulled him back. 

Gentle, Neil was too _gentle_ with him. 

“It’s fine,” Neil said. 

Cristian looked at Neil with a confused look on his face. 

Neil nodded toward the door and lead the way. Andrew glared at Diaz for a few seconds and followed Neil out. 

When the door shut behind them, Andrew took a long, deep breath and pushed the dark thoughts out of his head. None. Of. His. Business. 

The problem was, he could tell himself that a hundred times—he probably had—but it wouldn’t change a damned thing. There wasn’t a scenario where Neil would be with someone else and Andrew wouldn’t envy the bastard with everything he had. Because it was supposed to be Andrew. It always had been. 

“Your team won’t be happy you’re checking with the enemy,” Neil said.

“The enemy? What is this, a warzone?”

“Most of the time.”

“It was a hard hit.”

“And I’m fine, Drew.”

The nickname melted Andrew’s brain. He hadn’t heard it in two years. He’d been dying to hear the sound curl from Neil’s mouth, so soft it turned Andrew’s world upside down. 

“You always say that.”

Neil laughed. “Well, now it’s true.”

“Sorry I threatened your… whatever this is,” Andrew said. 

“Oh… oh, it’s not… it’s…” Andrew watched the flush crawl up to Neil’s ears, nest in his cheeks, and he didn’t need to ask about it anymore. 

He knew there was something here.

“Right. Okay. Anyway. Umm… I just wanted to check if you’re good. Gotta go now.”

He turned on his heel and headed back before he did something stupid. Like fall apart in front of Neil. 

“Andrew,” he called after him. 

Andrew didn’t stop. He couldn’t. He couldn’t look at Neil’s face. The color in his cheeks at the mention of the fucking backliner was too much to handle. 

He was running back to the Hawks’ locker room, breathless, with his heart shuttering in a hundred pieces, digging holes in his body like glass shards.

He pressed his head to his locker, closed his eyes and tried to erase the vision of Cristian’s hand holding Neil so close to him. 

_It’s going to be fine._

_It’s going to be fine._

_It’s going to be fine._

Andrew dug out his phone, his hands shaking and his mind a million miles out of this world, and typed out a text to Aaron.

_Call me now_

The Hawks lost the game. But that was hardly the most important thing Andrew had lost today. 


	8. Storm in a whiskey glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil wants to talk about the locker room visit. (FYI, I'm not sorry for that:D)  
> Drunk Neil.  
> Drunk Andrew.  
> One hell of an interview with those two that adds more fuel to the Minyard-Josten rivalry.

After the game, the doctors let Neil go with a bag of painkillers and a “strong suggestion” to rest for a week. It had taken almost begging Kevin not to come to the hospital with him, and go see Jeremy instead. Those two needed to sort shit out and Neil had no intention to take from Kevin’s time with Mister Sunshine. 

Cristian drove him back to the hotel in a fancy rental car and left him in the lobby. Neil’s head was a mess and it had nothing to do with the mild concussion. He needed to run, against which the doctors _strongly suggested_. 

Why had Andrew looked so fazed when he came to the locker room? Why had his face looked nothing like his usual still-water version? He’d been mad. He still was, judging by his lack of text responses. 

Neil tried again. 

_You still pissed?_

**Drew [23:04]**

_I’m not pissed._

_At least you answered this time._

**Drew [23:05]**

_What do you want Neil_

_I just want to talk, that’s all_

**Drew [23:06]**

_Fine. Talk_

_Not like that. Can we meet somewhere?_

**Drew [23:07]**

_Can’t._

_Andrew._

_I just don’t understand why you’re so pissed rn_

_Did I say anything? Cause I thought we were doing great with this_

_Andrew_

Neil sat in the lobby and dialed Matt. 

_“Hey, Neil! What did the doctors say?”_

“I’m fine.”

Matt laughed. _“Sure. Now, the truth?”_

“Mild concussion, painkillers, no running for a week. Like I said, I’m fine.”

_“Good. I can’t believe this motherfucker! A busted lip is the least he deserved if you ask me, I don’t care he’s from my team.”_

“Busted lip?”

_“Yeah. Andrew punched him. A few times actually. Surprised he didn’t break his nose.”_

“Oh.”

_“Yeah. Breakfast tomorrow? What time’s your flight?”_

“Late afternoon. Sure. All in for breakfast, and lunch and a whole damn tour.”

 _“I’m flattered.”_ Matt chuckled. _“Okay, I’ll call you tomorrow morning, then. Get some sleep. Oh, and… congrats, you menace! The only time I’m not pissed my team loses is when you and Kev do it to us.”_

“Kevin will beam with pride.”

_“If you tell him I said that, I’ll block both your numbers.”_

“Yeah, rubbish, rubbish, rubbish.”

Matt laughed again, a low, warm laugh, laced in alcohol. _“See you tomorrow, buddy.”_

“Matt, wait.”

_“Mhm?”_

“Okay. So, umm… I need a favor.”

_“Where’s the body?”_

“You’re not funny.”

_“Lies. Dan says I’m hilarious. What is it?”_

“Can you text me Andrew’s address?”

The dead silence that followed clenched around Neil’s heart like an icy fist. Neil waited for the time of three long breaths before he spoke again. 

“Matty…”

_“Neil, this is not a good idea, you know that, right? Do you want me to come over? Where’s Kevin?”_

“Look, we’re okay, me and Andrew. I just need to talk to him.”

Matt sighed. _“Okay. But you call me if you need me, alright? Doesn’t matter what time.”_

“Sure. It will be fine, though. Don’t worry about me.”

_“Not an option. Don’t do anything stupid. See you, bud.”_

When Matt sent the address, Neil considered for a long moment and called an Uber. 

Andrew’s apartment building was in a quiet part of Atlanta, but even so, Neil didn’t want to risk people overhearing their conversation. He ruled out asking Andrew to come down. 

_Alright. Here goes nothing._

He wasn’t even sure why he’d come here. Something he saw on Andrew’s face in the locker room wouldn’t leave him alone, and Neil could be the biggest idiot in the world but he wanted to chase down that feeling it left inside him and dig out the truth. Hope was a little flicker of light in his chest. 

Neil remembered how Andrew was in PSU whenever Neil got hurt. The glimmer of fear mixed with concern, dangling on the line with desperation. What if Andrew had reached out because he wanted more? More than casual texts and fake social media antagonism. What if he wanted Neil back? 

Neil’s pulse raced. 

He fished his phone from his pocket and typed a text to Andrew. 

_Can I come up?_

**Drew [23:42]**

_Where the fuck are you?_

_Your apartment building_

**Drew [23:43]**

_Fucking hell, Neil, I said I don’t want to talk!_

_Sucks to be you. I’m not leaving_

**Drew [23:44]**

_507_

The buzzer went off and the front gate opened with a silent click. 

Neil swallowed and walked in. The ride in the lift to the fifth floor was a haze, Neil’s heart beat so fast, he thought he might die before he even reached Andrew’s door. 

He strived for composure with everything he had. One, two, three breaths, his hand frozen on the door frame before he gathered the courage to knock. 

The door opened before he did. 

Andrew pulled it wide open and stepped aside to let Neil in. 

“It’s almost midnight. You better have a good reason for that. Like dying or… I don’t know, hiding a dead body in your hotel room.”

“What’s with everyone and corpses,” Neil muttered. 

Andrew’s apartment had minimalistic look to it: open concept, a black leather couch, white marble countertops, black-glass coffee table and chairs, and everything was in the monochrome color scale. Surprisingly, it didn’t smell of cigarettes. There was a faint scent of dried leaves and some kind of sweet spice like cardamom. 

Neil braced himself against one of the counters, while Andrew stood in front of him, arms crossed in front of his chest. 

“Talk,” Andrew said. 

“I want to know why you’re pissed at me.”

“If you came here all the way from your hotel to ask me that, you’ve wasted your time. I already told you I wasn’t pissed.”

“You didn’t respond to my messages.”

“So? I do that all the time.”

“No, you don’t.”

“What do you want, Neil?”

 _You. Always you_. Neil swallowed hard. The lump in his throat threatened to choke him. 

“I… Why’d you come in the locker room?”

Andrew looked away from his face. “I wanted to make sure you didn’t crack your skull.”

“Why? You could’ve called, why come there?”

“It was faster.”

“Jesus, Andrew. Can you give normal people answers just one fucking time? This vague non-answer bullshit is exhausting!” 

Andrew stepped closer and Neil’s entire body ached with the urge to touch him. 

“I told you, I don’t want to talk.”

“Well, you’re upset with me, and I won’t let this go. I’m not going to be the reason for—”

Andrew’s stone facade cracked. “The reason for what? Why are you really here, Neil? Hm?” Andrew pushed Neil back until his waist hit the counter edge. “Checking on me? For what? If I’d slit my wrists open?”

Neil shivered. “Andrew, this isn’t what I mean—”

“Let me make something perfectly clear. I don’t need your pity. I'm not pissed at you because of your boyfriend. I don’t care about your love life, I don’t care who you fuck. We broke up because I _wanted_ to. What happened in July doesn’t have _anything_ to do with you. Do you get that, or do you want me to repeat it?”

“Drew—”

“Don’t call me that! You put too much weight on your significance in my life decisions, Neil. Yes, I wanted to be friends again. But that’s it. I’m not going to break because you’re dating some asshole, and you don’t get to come here with your goddamn pity and do shit you don’t mean just cause you think I can’t handle it.”

“Andrew, I didn’t mean it like that. This isn’t why I came. I’m not dating—”

“I don’t care.”

“Fucking asshole! Will you shut up for two fucking seconds?”

Neil was fuming, he could feel the word vomit coming out of his mouth, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. 

“I wanted to know if this could be something more, if it could be… like… If you still wanted to—”

“Oh, so if I did, then what? You’d go back to me so you don’t feel guilty anymore?”

“Do you even hear yourself?”

“Perfectly. I’ve known you long enough to know what this is about. I don’t want anything to do with this shit, Neil. _I don’t want this_. So take your fucking pity and your guilt and shove them up your ass, and leave my fucking apartment.” 

_I don’t want this._ All Neil heard was ‘I don’t want _you’_. God, he was such a fucking idiot. He kept reading things into Andrew’s words, things that were never there. Twisting the meaning of what Andrew said into something Neil’s heart wanted to believe. 

But at the end of the day, Andrew was never the liar. Neil was. Andrew told the truth, always the truth, painful and ugly and horrible. And the truth was Andrew didn’t want Neil. He’d never want Neil again, and Neil was ramming his head into a concrete wall, trying to break through, when in reality there was nothing for him on the other side. 

Neil was stupid, so fucking stupid, to believe he could have this. All the signs were there, all of it written in huge, shiny letters in the sky, screaming Neil was stupid, pathetic, wrong, wrong, wrong. 

He pulled himself off the counter and bolted for the stairs before he broke down. 

Half an hour and an Uber drive later, Neil sat in a bar, fuck knew where, sipping top-shelf whiskey. If he was going to do this, he was going to it right. Not that he tasted the difference between this and the cheap stuff. The first glass went down in mere minutes. 

He ordered a second one and texted Cristian. 

_Wanna grab a drink?_

**Cristian [00:55]**

_You sure you should drink?_

_No. Don’t care. I’m drinking anyway. Wanna have a drink with me or not?_

**Cristian [00:56]**

_Yes. Where are you?_

Neil texted him the location and gulped down half of his drink. 

Stupid, stupid, stupid. He was so fucking stupid, he wanted to slam his head into the bar. Why the fuck had he even thought Andrew would still feel anything for him? Of course, he didn’t. He’d made himself perfectly clear about it, and still, like a stupid child, Neil had believed there was more to it. 

He’d felt guilty for a stupid, tiny kiss he never even initiated, and for what? So Andrew fucking Minyard could shut him down. Again. 

Because this was what Andrew did. 

Push him away. Again. 

Tear him down. Again. 

It felt like he’d broken up with him all over again. 

Neil was done, so fucking done. Kevin was right. He shouldn’t do things because of Andrew. He shouldn’t shut people out of his life because of Andrew, because he thought it would leave enough room for Andrew to come back. Andrew was never coming back to him. 

Cristian came to the bar somewhere around Neil’s fourth whiskey, looking concerned and a little nervous. 

“Hey, you okay?” 

“Fabulous,” Neil muttered. 

“Right. At least you didn’t say fine.” Cristian sat on the barstool next to him and called for a whiskey. 

“Thanks for coming.”

“Sure. One time I can be the one to get you out of trouble.”

Neil didn’t say much, but Cristian didn’t really push him into it. Just let him drink while talking about backline drills, and Neil let his mind soak in the alcohol and Cristian’s voice, and… Fuck Andrew. 

He pictured one memory after the other like polaroid photos in his head, Neil holding each one over a fire and watching the paper burn. If only it was that simple. 

He’d spent two fucking years, waiting, hoping, torturing himself, wishing Andrew would change his mind. For fuck’s sake, Neil deserved to be happy. He deserved someone to _care_ for him. To look at him like he was worth something. 

He looked at Cristian over the rim of his glass, his bronze skin and deep brown eyes, like sunbathed wood bark. And Neil had enough alcohol in his blood to let his walls fall down, and not care about a thing in the world. 

Objectively, Cristian was attractive, not that this was ever a thing for Neil. But Diaz was kind, and loud, and open, and fuck everything, he _cared_. Neil was perfectly aware that no one would ever know him like Andrew did, and he wouldn’t ever know anyone else like he knew Andrew.

And for the first time, that was fine. 

He watched Cristian talk, the words blurred into an incoherent mess and Neil’s mind was so fucking hazy, he put the glass down and blurted out words he didn’t mean to. 

“Why’d you kiss me?”

Cristian’s mouth froze mid-word. He shifted in his chair, his face flushing a rich color at his cheeks. 

“I… Neil, I apologized for it. Do you want me to do it again?”

“No. I want you to tell me why you did it.”

“Because I was drunk. _Really_ drunk.”

“That it?”

“Yes.”

Neil huffed a laugh. God, the whiskey was making him bolder than usual. 

“You’re a horrible liar.”

The flush in Cristian’s face deepened. “I don’t…”

“Kevin says it’s because you’ve,” Neil made very animated air quotes, “had a crush on me since forever.”

“You told Kevin.”

“I tell Kevin a lot of things.”

“You… That explains why he looks at me like he wants to strangle me to death with a rusty wire.”

“Hm, no. He was actually insinuating I should go for it.”

“What?”

Neil thought Cristian had stopped breathing. 

“Yeah.”

“Ok. That’s a… Alright. Fine. Fine.” Cristian gulped the content of his glass, giving himself a second before he spoke. “You’ve said you didn’t date. And I respect that. I do. What I did was dumb as fuck, cause I didn’t ask or… say anything about it before.” Cristian stopped, looked at Neil’s face like he was made of glass and shook his head. 

“Just so we’re clear, Kevin’s a dick. He shouldn't have told you that.”

Neil laughed. “I’m a little slow catching up on those things, it's kinda necessary. So he’s right then?”

“What difference does it make? We’re friends. I’m not going to fuck this up.”

“Why do people always answer with a question when they don’t want to tell the truth?”

Cristian went silent and still for a long moment. He fixed Neil with a warm, but serious look. “Yes. He's right.”

Neil pinned his elbow to the bar and leaned his head to his hand. “Do you want to do it again?”

“Neil, I…”

“Just answer the fucking question.”

“Yes. Not now though. You’re drunk. I’m not doing this to you when you’re drunk.”

Neil chuckled breathlessly. “That’s the problem with decent people. They refuse to kiss you drunk, even though this is when you want it the most.”

“Because the reason _why_ you want it is you being drunk. Shut up. Drink your whiskey and let’s go back to the hotel. It’s three in the morning.”

The next morning, Neil woke up with more than a couple of regrets. 

*********

Andrew woke up to Matt’s face in a punchable distance to his. When he opened his eyes, Matt jumped back. 

“You’re alive. Cool.”

“Are you relieved or disappointed,” Andrew muttered. 

“Alive _and_ an idiot. Gold star for you.” Matt gave him a thumbs up.

“What are you doing here? Stop breaking into my fucking apartment, Boyd.”

"Aaron called me. You sent him a disturbing email last night."

Oh. Right. Shit. 

Andrew remembered now. 

_I make everyone miserable by existing in the same space. I wish I didn’t._

He could see how this would rile Aaron up. 

The room smelled like bacon and something sweet, apple and cinnamon. 

“What are you doing?” Andrew asked. 

“Breakfast. Get up. You’re taking from my time with my best friend, asshole. Get the fuck up.”

Matt did sound like he wanted to punch him but that was not a novelty. Matt Boyd had always wanted to punch Andrew, since the minute they’d met. Dream on, boxer boy.

“I didn’t ask you to come here.”

“No. Aaron did. And as shocking as it might be to you, people actually like your brother a lot more than they like you.”

Matt made a mocking shocked face. Andrew snorted. 

“I’m all good. Get out now, go meet up with the junkie.” Andrew crawled out of the couch where he’d spent the night and dragged himself to the kitchen counter. 

Eggs and bacon, toast topped with warm apple sauce and cinnamon. 

The care annoyed the shit out of Andrew. Especially when it came from Matt Boyd. Matt didn’t give a rat’s ass about Andrew, he was doing this for Aaron. As if Andrew was some kind of fucked up charity case. 

He switched the coffee maker on and turned to look at Matt again. “Go, Boyd! Oh, and just so you know, _Kevin_ is the junkie’s best friend. Sucks to be you.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “At least I have friends. What do you have? Babysitters?”

“Fuck off.”

“What did you say to him last night?”

Andrew looked at him as if Matt had slapped him. “What?”

“You heard me. I know he came here. What did you say to him?”

“And now we know how he miraculously found my address.”

“Answer the question.”

Andrew glared at him. 

“Fine. Don’t tell me. I know it was a shitshow anyway, considering the state Neil’s at.”

Andrew huffed a fake laugh. Not that anyone could tell. Not unless they were Neil. 

“And what state is that? Being an idiot? That’s permanent.”

“That shit you’re trying to pull off, hoping everyone buys it… they don’t. You forget sometimes that I was there for most of the time you and Neil were something. So, by all means, keep acting out like a middle school brat. No one’s buying this crap anyway and you’re making a fuckin ass out of yourself.”

Matt stopped at the door. “Oh, wait. You being a fucking ass is permanent.”

He muttered ‘dickhead’ under his breath and shut the door. 

Andrew stared at the coffee dripping into a mug and tried to recall all the shit he’d said last night. 

The thing was, he meant at least half of it. He didn’t want Neil to come back to him because he felt guilty. He didn’t want Neil to stay out of some stupid pity he felt for Andrew. 

He wanted the fire, the breathless kisses, the look in Neil’s eyes when pushed him down to the bed and whispered words Neil didn’t expect him to say. 

The reasons why Neil wanted to try again were all wrong. It was better to keep him an arm away than let him too close and burn to the ground. It was easier to know he couldn't have him the way he wanted than keep him close and wonder every day, every minute, if Neil loved him or stayed because he felt guilty. 

Andrew shoved a bacon strip in his mouth and fished his phone from the floor by the couch. The right thing to do was to wait, give Neil a little space and then go back to the casual small talk like nothing happened. But he didn’t want to wait. He needed to know it was still fine. This fragile something-like-friendship they’d created was still alive. 

_I was pissed because you let a 6’4” asshole slam you into a wall. You know better than to play like that._

**Neil [11:12]**

_Ok_

_I might have been a little harsh._

**Neil [11:14]**

_Don’t worry about it_

_We good?_

**Neil [11:23]**

_Yeah_

That felt exactly like one of Neil Josten’s lies. 

  
  


_Jan 25_

Whose fucking idea was it to put Andrew in a goddamn morning show with Neil? It was seven in the morning and Andrew already planned a triple homicide, watching Kevin, Neil and Jeremy swoon over each other like a bunch of fucking cheerleaders. 

The Dallas Cardinals. The Atlanta Hawks. The never-ending fight for the first spot in the league. Currently, the Hawks were at the top position, but that changed a few times over the season. 

Andrew wore a suit. A goddamn suit! At seven in the morning. 

He hated those people. 

Andrew had exchanged a few words with Kevin and Neil and waited until they were asked into the studio. 

The interviewer, Helene Larsson, practically swooned looking at them. Oh, crap. That certainly meant one thing. Relationship questions. 

Andrew regretted he entered the studio without his knives. 

“...and here we have the top-rated players from those long-time opposing teams. Please welcome Kevin Day and Neil Josten from the Dallas Cardinals, and Jeremy Knox and Andrew Minyard from the Atlanta Hawks.”

There was a loud wave of recorded applause sounds, as the four of them entered and sat on the opposing red velvet couches. Helene Larsson sat in a chair between them. 

Andrew zoned out for the first few questions, grateful for once that Jeremy Knox didn’t know how to shut the fuck up and replied to all of them instead of Andrew. 

And then the dreaded bit started. 

“We have questions our viewers left in our twitter account here. Let’s make this more interesting, boys. This pile is questions for Jeremy and Andrew, I’m handing those to Neil. And this pile is questions for Kevin and Neil, Andrew would you like to read them out?”

Andrew shrugged. Whatever. His manager practically threatened him to participate in interviews “with actual words this time Minyard, not fucking growls, okay?”. He could live through this shit just this once. 

“Do we take turns or what?” Neil asked. 

“Sure. If that’s ok with you,” Helene chimed, flashing a dazzling smile. 

“Ok. I start. Here’s one for Jeremy.” Neil laughed. “That’s funny. Is Jeremy Knox the actual human embodiment of the Sun? I can answer this one.” Neil took a pause and looked into a camera with a serious face. “Yes.”

There was laughter and Jeremy flushed a little next to Andrew. 

“Next question, I’ll let them answer this time. This one is for Andrew. Is it true Andrew Minyard carries knives on the court?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Andrew said with a sneer. He read the first question card. “This one’s for Kevin. Does Kevin Day have a girlfriend? Why, yes, darling Kev, tell us.”

Jeremy stiffened next to him and Andrew couldn’t hide the satisfaction from his reaction. 

“No. No girlfriend.”

“So, you’re single then?” Andrew said. 

“Is that really on the card, Minyard?” Kevin hissed. 

“No. Curious if I should be giving your phone number away, Day.”

“I’m not on the market, thanks. Next question, Neil.” Kevin glared at Andrew. 

“Is Jeremy Knox dating Jean Moreau?” Neil snorted. “Hey, viewers, do better than that.”

Jeremy laughed. “Cute. But no.”

Andrew read the next question, watching closely at Neil’s face. “What is Neil Josten’s real name?”

Neil’s smile slipped off. “Neil Abram Josten. Ask the FBI if you dare.”

Kevin chuckled. “I don’t think anyone’s that much of a crazy asshat as you to do it, Neil.”

“‘m not crazy,” Neil muttered as he sipped water from his glass. “Just stubborn. Next question. Is Aaron Minyard Andrew’s twin.” Neil rolled his eyes. “No. They're the same person. Andrew that is. He pretends to be a doctor when he’s bored. If you see him in your hospital room holding a scalpel, run.”

“Dick.” Andrew barely suppressed his smile, even less so as he felt his phone buzz in his pocket, most certainly with a sour retort from Aaron. 

“Oh, look, an actual question. Is Andrew Minyard the best pro goalie?”

Andrew grinned. “If we’re judging by the number of times Josten has scored on me, absolutely.”

“As far as I remember you lost your last two games against the Cardinals.”

“Irrelevant. Question. Is Kevin Day going to be Court? Aw, look, Kev, even strangers know you’re an Exy-obsessed junkie.”

“Absolutely will do,” Kevin replied. 

“Is Jeremy Knox gay?” Neil flushed. “What the…”

Jeremy laughed. “It’s okay, Neil. No. I’m not gay. Bisexual. Get over it.”

Andrew looked at the next question, wishing he could sink into the floor.

“Is Neil Josten dating Cristian Diaz?” Andrew’s mouth dried. Fucking people. He looked over at Neil’s face, waiting for the flush in his cheeks but it never came. His face was still and carved of stone. 

“People seem to have a lot of questions about relationship statuses, huh? No. And I don’t think it’s anyone business actually.” 

Something too similar to anger rose in Andrew’s chest. Why the fuck was Neil lying? Okay, technically, he knew Neil couldn’t just spill out his relationship drama on live television show but the burn in Andrew’s chest was too painful to ignore. 

“People are curious, Josten. There are pics of you two online. Can’t blame them.”

Neil's jaw clenched, a fire raged in his eyes.

“I answered the question, Minyard. It’s a no. Next question. Why do Andrew Minyard and Neil Josten hate each other?” Neil cleared his throat. “Is that a question for both of us? Okay, I’ll start. Let’s see,” Neil started counting on his fingers, clearly furious. “Andrew hit me with an Exy racquet the first time I met him in college. On purpose. He’s a complete asshole, look at his twitter account. Oh, and he drugged me against my will in my freshman year in PSU. That enough?”

Andrew glared at him. That was so petty. So incredibly petty of Neil. “Sure. You’re lucky I never stabbed you.”

“No. You were too busy threatening your cousin with that.”

“Don’t talk like you don’t know why I’ve done it, asshole!”

“Oh, I do know. Cause you’re unstable and reckless and snap at half a word that someone says and you don't like.”

“It’s better than pretending nothing rattles me and watching the world burn down around me or _lying_ to every living being that I’ve ever known like you did.”

“That was _years_ ago!”

“Was it? So you’re not lying to everyone with those stupid questions today? ‘My name is Neil Abram Josten, ask the FBI’, ‘No, I’m not dating Cristian Diaz’.” Andrew said in a mocking voice that sounded nothing like Neil and snorted at the end. 

“Boys, boys, let’s take a small break, shall we?” Helene Larsson said. The cameras cut off. She put her head in her hands, certainly regretting setting up this whole interview. 

“What the fuck was that, Minyard!” Kevin yelled. 

“What? Did I lie about anything?”

Neil glared at him. “Let’s just finish the interview so we can get the hell out of here.”

At the end of the show, Neil stormed out of the studio not waiting for anyone. Andrew wasn’t having it. He chased after him and cornered him in a corridor one floor down. 

He caught Neil’s shoulder and stopped him midstride. Neil turned with a furious flush on his face. 

“What the fuck do you want, Andrew?”

“You started this shit.”

“Is this why you’re coming after me? I don’t care who started it!”

Andrew’s insides burned. Neil pushed him away and he was losing him again, God fucking damn it, he was about to lose him. _Again_. All the anger from earlier melted away. 

“Okay. That was bad. I... “

“You what? Is this what you do for fun now? Start fights with me? Is there anything you’d like to say off-camera? You always seem to be so eager to spill your guts in front of them.”

“Neil. Shut up.”

Neil turned to go. Andrew pulled him back, slammed him against the wall and caged him there, his arms on both sides of Neil’s shoulders. 

So close. Andrew was too fucking close. His skin buzzed with static. His face was inches away from Neil’s. The hot air from Neil’s breaths brushed against Andrew’s lips and he was absolutely going to lose his fucking mind. 

Neil’s eyes traveled down to Andrew’s lips. The world was slipping away. Andrew knew Neil wouldn’t touch him without permission. He’d never do that. So it was all up to Andrew to hold the line here, and God, it was almost impossible at this point. 

They stared at each other, each breath replacing the anger with something else. Something dangerous and hot and overwhelming. Andrew couldn't stand it.

“I’m not… dating Diaz. It’s… It’s nothing,” Neil finally said. 

“Sounds like another _nothing_ I remember.”

“It’s not.”

“I’m sorry,” Andrew said and it felt like a knife wound in his guts.

“I’m sorry, too.”

“Wanna… cover this shit up with antagonistic tweets? I’m pretty great at those.” Andrew forced a smile and used all his remaining willpower to pull himself away from Neil. 

“Sure. Do that. I’ll call you a gnome. Just so we’re clear.”

“Will you get the fuck over those goddamn three inches?” Andrew rolled his eyes. 

“Never.” 

Neil grinned before he turned away and left in the corridor. 

Andrew leaned against the wall and tipped his head back, fishing his phone out. Bee. He needed Bee. And a fucking punch in the face. 

Neil Josten was going to kill him. One way or another. 


	9. Sport conventions and broken elevators

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil and Andrew meet at the Sports Gear Expo  
> Andrew is a jealous asshole. (yes. we are all shocked.)  
> Neil has a panic attack.  
> Aaron makes another plan (cause the first one went just. so. well.)  
> There's a broken elevator because of course, there is.

_Feb 11_

Andrew thought he knew everything about nightmares. But he wasn’t prepared for this particular one. The worst part was that it didn’t end when he woke up. Days were torture, the little hints, the playful tweets that didn’t mean anything before Andrew saw Cristian Diaz’s hand wrapped around Neil’s arm, the constant stalking on Diaz’s instagram profile. Yes, Andrew was one of _those_ people now. And when he slept, the goddamn backliner infested his dreams, making Neil laugh and tick and look at him like _that_. Like Andrew used to make him. 

The reporters kept asking and Neil kept denying it. 

Andrew knew he should stop. This was unhealthy, it was driving him insane but it was like a kitten scratch that kept itching. And couldn’t stop scraping his nails over it until his skin was raw.

The little signs. They felt like darts hitting between his ribs. And instead of taking the tips out and waiting for the wounds to heal, Andrew pushed them further in. 

His mind wouldn’t let a single memory go. Pictures, rolling in his head like photo strips, like a manifestation of his fucking nightmares.

Cristian Diaz’s instagram profile: a picture of him, Hennessy and Neil holding their racquets crossed together, Cristian’s shoulder delicately brushing Neil’s. 

And another one, three cups of coffee with Kevin’s, Neil’s and Cristian’s names on them. 

And another one, Cristian holding an electric guitar, a gift for his birthday from his teammates, and Neil and Riya Hennessy leaning over a countertop in the background in what was probably Cristian’s apartment. The caption said, “My lovelies spoil me like crazy, damn, am I lucky or what?”

And another one, from the locker room before a game, taken the last minutes before they called the players’ names. The players’ backs, lined up, and Neil’s red curls on focus, and everything else was blurred out. The caption said, “Ready for another win.”

Objectively, those shouldn’t mean Neil was dating the guy. But there were too many of them, and Neil was everywhere in Cristian’s life on social media. The part of Andrew’s brain that told him _“so are his other teammates”_ shut down and all he could see was Neil. 

Then Riya Hennessy posted a video of a very drugged Cristian Diaz. He’d dislocated his ankle and was drugged out of his mind on painkillers in the locker room. His teammates apparently thought it was hilarious.

Riya’s voice came from behind the camera. _“Cris, love, tell us again about the dragons in Game of Thrones.”_

Cristian slurred, _“Nno. You’re mean. Dragons are superior.”_

Laughter bounced from the walls in the room. The camera shook. 

_“Sure. Sure. Who’s the best striker in pro league?”_

Neil laughed. _“Come on, that’s an obvious answer.”_

 _“The Queen asshole.”_ Cristian stuck his tongue out. 

More laughter. 

_“Gee, thanks. I’m flattered.”_ That was Kevin. 

_“But Neil’s more…”_

Riya laughed. _“Mouthy?”_

_“Annoying?”_

_“Tiny?”_

_“Hey!”_ That was Neil. 

_“Unpredictable,”_ Cristian said. He tipped his head back on the bench where he was lying. _“Among other things.”_

The video cut out. 

Yes, Andrew had a whole metaphorical archive room full of little nightmares like that, which was why the last thing he wanted was to wake up to a tweet from Cristian Diaz saying,

 **@CristianDiazOfficial** See me and @NeilJos10 at the Sports Gear Expo today. ✌

That same Expo Andrew was currently walking into.

So, maybe Aaron being here wasn’t such a bad idea after all. 

Andrew had suggested it as a joke and Aaron agreed to fly to Boston for it. Both of them in the same place together, a sports event no less. Andrew thought it would be hilarious to just fuck with people. He’d even bought Aaron the same shirt. 

But now Aaron’s presence felt like a life jacket. 

The hall was huge. Booths and tables were set all over the floor, forming corridors, five floors of equipment from any brand Andrew could think of. Andrew had already located all balconies he could run away from the crowd for a cigarette in peace. 

Posters with the faces of different players hung on every wall, and sure as hell, Neil’s face was there close to Nike’s booths. It was almost black and white, dramatic lighting, a hint of reds in Neil’s hair, and his scars were as prominent as they looked in reality. He was right. No photoshopping his face. He was beautiful. 

Andrew’s obligations for today were simple: don’t be an ass (his manager’s exact words), let people take pictures with him without death threats, look like he cared about this. Well, two out of three should suffice. Maybe he could switch with Aaron at one point and nail the ‘ _look like you care_ ’ part, too. 

Somewhere on the fifth floor, Andrew lost Aaron for a minute. He was too busy staring at the Reebok booths when he saw Cristian Diaz’s face from their poster. Alright, so… objectively, he was hot. Fuck. Him. For that. Andrew would still bust his lip just for pleasure. 

He heard his name spoken with enough venom in it, so he knew they didn’t mean Aaron. 

“—the fuck do you want, Minyard?”

“Ummm… saying hi to Neil? What’s your problem?” Aaron said.

“Saying hi? You’re kidding right?”

Neil chuckled. “Okay. Time out.” He slapped Cristian’s shoulder. “That’s Aaron. Minyard.”

Andrew turned just in time to see Cristian’s face flush in embarrassment. “Oh. Oh, sorry, man. Fuck. You look exactly the same.”

“Yeah. Happens with twins.” Aaron rolled his eyes and Andrew wanted to give his brother a fucking medal for this. 

“How’d you even know?” Cristian asked Neil and then his eyes landed on Andrew. His eyebrows knitted together.

Andrew stepped closer with a menacing smile. “Neil.”

“Hey,” Neil said and he looked like the life had been drained out of his face. 

“I thought this was a professional event, not a date.” Andrew switched his gaze between Neil and Cristian. 

Cristian was fuming. “The fuck di—” 

Neil touched the back of his arm in a way that made Andrew want to rip the backliner’s skin off his face. 

“Not in a mood for trash-talking today,” Neil said.

“Funny. I thought you’re always in a mood to rip people apart with that mouth of yours.”

Neil glared at him. “For credibility?”

“For credibility.” Andrew nodded. And it was a lie. Fuck the rivalry bullshit. He’d lost control of his anger. Again. 

Neil flashed a smile and nudged Cristian in the other direction, towards a group of people chanting Neil’s name. “Nice game against the Rebels, dick.”

Andrew flicked him off. The Hawks had barely won against the Rebels with one point in the last seconds of the game. It was Andrew’s worst for the season. 

Aaron shoved his elbow in his ribs when Neil turned to go. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“You and a bunch of psychiatrists want to know the answer to that question,” Andrew muttered. 

“I changed my mind. Neil’s a fuckin saint to deal with this bullshit for years.”

“Oh, shut up. I wasn’t like that with him.”

“No. You just kept telling him you two were nothing, and you weren’t dating and told everyone he meant nothing to you, and then beat a bunch of people up for hurting him. You’re right. That was _so_ much better!” Aaron scoffed. 

“Don’t be a dick. Let’s get out of here.”

Andrew threw one last look at Neil and froze. Cameras were flashing. There were a few people around Neil, taking turns to take a picture with him. And then one of the kids took out a dashboard lighter, saying something about holding it up for the picture. 

The next thing Andrew knew was the kid was pressing the lighter to Neil’s cheek, laughing, and he wanted to scream. Neil jerked back, bumping into someone behind him. His hand was over his cheek as if the lighter had burned him. He kept walking back, shaking. Cristian Diaz was yelling something to the kid, then caught Neil’s arm and pulled him away, half-dragging him toward the balcony. 

“Hey, you okay?” the backliner said. 

Fucking idiot. Andrew pushed through the people surrounding him. He followed Neil and Cristian on the balcony without thinking. Neil was folded in two, gasping for air and Diaz was not helping at all. It had been years, but Andrew knew how to bring Neil back from this and fuck everything if he was going to leave him like that right now. 

He pushed Cristian away from him. “Move.”

Diaz started protesting, then physically pulling Andrew away from Neil. Andrew pulled a knife and pressed it against his stomach. “Touch me again and see how it goes. Stay back.”

The backliner looked at Andrew, wide-eyed and pale-faced and took a step back. 

Andrew turned to Neil. He was a mess, gasping and sweating and shaking, and Andrew’s heart clenched so painfully he thought it might rip through his ribcage. He pressed a hand on the back of Neil’s neck and pushed him up, pinning his shoulders against the wall. Neil looked at him, tears rolling down. Andrew pulled his head against his shoulder, keeping him there. 

“Breathe, junkie. You’re safe. You’re okay. They’re all fucking dead. You’re safe.”

Neil let out a small sob and pressed his head harder to Andrew’s shoulder. Andrew stroked the back of Neil’s head, running his fingers through the soft curls. God, they were softer than he remembered. 

Andrew’s body ached with a sick need to wrap himself around Neil and keep him curled up and protected from everything and everyone. He felt Neil’s panic dissolving into steady breaths and slower heartbeats, but he kept his head in the crook between Andrew’s shoulder and neck. The heat from his breath was enough to send shivers crawl up and down Andrew’s back. 

“I’m fine, Drew,” Neil whispered against his skin. Andrew felt the goosebumps form on the back of his neck. 

“I’ll throw you off the balcony if you say that again.”

Neil laughed. “You still use that threat?”

“Always.”

Oh, fuck. Wrong word. It was too much. Always _yes_. Always _you_. 

_Will you stay?_

_Always._

Andrew stepped back. 

The look in Neil’s eyes was so soft, Andrew was about to melt to the floor in a fucking sap puddle if he didn’t get out of here. 

“Thank you,” Neil said. 

Andrew hated when he said it. It always felt like a loss. It always felt like the end, like the world was on fire and there was no exit left. _Thank you, you were amazing_. Fuck. Neil. He’d always been Andrew’s losing game. 

Andrew nodded and slipped out, leaving Neil and his goddamn incompetent boyfriend-fuck buddy-whatever behind. The heat from Neil’s breath still soaked in Andrew’s skin, digging its way to his bones. 

*****

Aaron stared at the text on his phone, blinking a few times to make sure it wasn’t an illusion. 

**Nicky [17:06]**

_We eloped!_

Aaron dialed the number and the second the call connected he was shouting. 

“You _fucking_ what?”

_“Normal people say congratulations.”_

“The Hemmick-Minyards are not normal people, Nicky! What the fuck!”

_“It’s Hemmick-Klose now.”_

“Fucking… Oh, my god, you crazy fuck! I mean… Congratulations, but also, fuck you, dick! I was supposed to be at your wedding!”

Nicky chuckled. 

“Is Erik there? Put him on the phone.”

_“I don’t know, are you going to yell at him, too?”_

“Fuck, yeah! Don’t tell me whether or not I can yell at my brother.. cousin-in-law. Noooow. Put Erik on the phone.”

There was some shuffle and more giggles and Nicky’s soft voice saying “ _I think he’s excited_ ” in German. 

_“Hello,”_ Erik said. 

Aaron switched to German. “How could you do this, Erik, how! Congratulations! But how! I’m officially mad at you. Tell the other Hemmick-Klose asshole. I. Am. Mad. You’re both awful! I want pictures! Oh, my god!”

Erik was chuckling softly, unable to say anything through Aaron’s tirade. 

_“Thanks. I gather you’re happy for us?”_

“Yes, you bet your ass I am! If you think you’re off the hook for marrying in secret because you send me cute pics, you’re very wrong. Still. Pissed.”

“ _Aww, Aaron, I’ll just pretend this is both yours_ _and_ _Andrew’s reaction. Because we both know his_ _actual reaction will be four minutes of stunned silence followed by “okay”._

“I can’t believe it. The first Fox wedding and we don’t get to be there for it. You guys are the worst! Wait. Are you pregnant?”

Aaron laughed at his idiotic joke.

 _“Fuck you,”_ Nicky hissed. 

“So no.”

 _“Not for the lack of trying,”_ Nicky said with a laugh. 

“For God’s sake, Nicky!” 

_“You started it!”_

Aaron laughed. God, Katelyn was right. He'd been horrible to Nicky. It had taken him years. Years! Sessions with Bee and talking, so much fucking talking, to get to the root of all the reasons why Nicky’s sexuality had brought the worst in him all this time ago. 

He’d made his peace with Nicky, but Aaron didn’t think he’d ever forgive himself completely for being _that person_ for his own family. His mother was not an excuse. The bullshit she had drilled into his head for his entire childhood was not an excuse. And Nicky had forgiven him. Of course, he had, it was Nicky. He had an endless capacity for forgiveness. 

But Aaron was still making amends with himself. Probably one of the reasons why he was so incredibly careful with his new cousin-in-law. It was guilt yet to be smothered. 

Aaron was happy for them. Really, really happy. But he’d really wanted to be there. He’d planned this long-ass speech for them that he’d wanted to say. Not that it would erase everything Aaron had said to Nicky before, but it was what he wanted his cousin to know. Everything Aaron felt for him and Erik, he wanted them to know that. 

_“Ahem,”_ Nicky’s voice came from the speaker. _“Are you crying?”_

“Fuck off. ‘m not crying.” Aaron did sound like he’d teared up a bit.

_“Okay, since you’re sooo eager to be at our wedding… here’s the second part of what I wanted to tell you. We’re doing it again.”_

“What?”

_“A second wedding. Well, honestly, a third since we’re doing it with Erik’s parents and friends here first.”_

Aaron blinked. “You want to do three weddings?”

_“What can I say? I love getting married to Erik.”_

Aaron laughed so hard he teared up this time. “Nicholas. Fucking. Hemmick.”

 _“Hemmick-_ Klose _.”_

“Right. Right. You don’t do anything half-assed, do you?”

 _“You know me. Have I ever said no to a party? There will champagne, and ties, and Erik looks so good in a suit I want to rip it off_ _of him in the middle of the hall.”_

Erik’s voice came hushed out. _“Nicky! For God’s sake, don’t say that to your cousin!”_

_“What? He’s heard me say worse!”_

Aaron laughed. It was absolutely true. Nicky had no filter whatsoever. 

“So when will that magical wedding happen? And where?” Aaron said. 

_“We’re flying to US. April 16th. Columbia. Buy a suit, Aaron. I mean it. I’ll send invitations._ _Extra glitter on yours.”_ Nicky laughed. 

“I can’t wait. Again, congratulations! I’m waiting for the pics.”

_“Sure, bye, Aaron.”_

Andrew found his way back from the balcony a few minutes after Nicky hung up the phone. 

The look on his face was so wrecked, Aaron knew it couldn’t be something good. 

“What is it? Is Neil okay?”

“Yeah. He’s fine. A panic attack. He’s had worse.”

“Mhm.”

“Let’s do this shit and get out of here. Not particularly dying to meet that asshole again.”

Aaron knew Andrew didn’t mean Neil at all. 

“Okay. So. Nicky and Erik eloped.”

Andrew stared at him for a long moment, then said “Okay” and Aaron blurted out a laugh so loud Andrew raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah. Nicky said this was exactly what you’d say about it.”

Andrew rolled his eyes. “It’s not like we’re family or anything.”

“They’re doing a second wedding in April.”

“Cool.”

“We’re invited.”

“Okay.”

“Gotta be in suits.”

“Okay.”

“In Columbia.”

“Okay.”

“You’re giving a speech about it.”

“Oh, fuck off!”

Aaron chuckled, trailing behind Andrew. He pulled his phone out and typed a text to Nicky.

_Invite Neil. I’ll talk to you about it later._

**Nicky [17:25]**

_I was going to ask Andrew if I could._

_Don’t ask him. Just invite Neil._

**Nicky [17:26]**

_I don’t wanna die on my wedding, Aaron!_

_Trust me._

**Nicky [17:27]**

_Ok. Neil's in. Won’t tell Andrew. But only because I think this is some kind of a diabolical plan and I’m proud of you!_

Well, Nicky wasn’t far off. Honestly, was Aaron supposed to do all the work for those two idiots? 

*********

The Expo was almost at the end when Neil sneaked out from the last group of fans and headed to the service elevator. Only staff and players had a key to it. Cristian slipped in before the doors closed. It was just the both of them. 

“What was that earlier?” Cristian didn’t waste any time. He pressed the button to close the doors but didn’t press any other, keeping them on the same floor.

“Panic attack.”

“Not that, Neil! What was that with Minyard?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing.” Cristian sighed. He faced Neil and pressed a hand against the wall on the side of his head. 

Neil wasn’t lying when he said he didn’t date Cristian. After that drunk talk in the bar, they’d talked about it again, and Neil had said he didn’t know what it was and he didn’t want to rush anything. 

So, Cristian pulled back, gave him space, and never pushed him. They had kissed a few times after that. Neil had no idea what he felt. That was the problem. Not that he’d ever been an expert on feelings but when it came to this kind of feelings he was usually pretty sure. It was an on and off type of switch, no middle position. But with Cristian it was different. Neil wanted the attention, wanted the care, but he didn’t feel that fire that used to burn him from the inside. Not like he felt it with Andrew. He still didn’t kiss Cristian because he _had to_. He’d wanted to try and Cristian never pushed him further than that. 

Neil was so fucking lost about this. One thing he was certain about; Cristian cared about him. Deeply. That much was obvious even for someone like Neil who’d be the last to figure out people’s feelings. 

“Neil, if there’s something you need to tell me, then just do it. Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re not. Okay. You’re not. And Andrew Minyard didn’t just pull you through a panic attack like he reads into your fucking souls. Okay.”

Neil looked up at him. “It’s not like… Okay, fine. We just know each other pretty well, that’s it.”

“Are you going to make me pull the words out of your mouth like a jealous asshole?”

“Are you a jealous asshole?”

“Obviously. Now fucking spill.”

Neil sighed. “We... dated. A long time ago.”

“You can’t be serious.” Neil shrugged. “Minyard? But he’s… crazy.”

“He’s. Not. Crazy.”

Cristian huffed a laugh that sounded like someone had gutted him. “Breaking in our locker room makes sense now.”

Neil pushed the button to the ground floor.

“Okay. It’s not what you think. We’re just being civil with each other and that’s all about it. We’re not—”

“I didn’t say you were. You’re not the type to play this kind of games.”

“No, I’m not. Are we okay?” Neil needed to get away from Cristian. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t want to push him away, not until he sorted his own feelings. But right now, everything in his body was _Andrew_. The touch of his skin on the back of his neck, his fingers in his hair, the warmth of his neck where Neil has almost brushed his lips, the faint smell of pine aftershave and cigarette smoke Neil swore he could still feel on his own skin.

It was messing with Neil’s head. He reminded himself a dozen times that Andrew didn’t want this. Reminded himself that he didn’t deserve to be constantly shut down and hurt and his heart played like a wind-up toy. And all he could think about was that he wanted _more_. 

“Yeah. We’re good. If you want to talk about the lighter thing…” 

“No. I don’t want to dig into old wounds.”

“Okay.”

The doors opened and Neil fished for his buzzing phone in his pocket. He walked to the front gate with Cristian, while reading the text.

It was the Nike representative. He stopped half-way to the gate.

“Shit. The Nike guys want something. Don’t wait for me. I’ll get an Uber to the hotel.”

“Okay.”

Neil watched Cristian wrap himself in his blue wool coat and turned back to the elevator. 

The Nike rep wanted him to sign some of the equipment. Neil pressed the button to the fifth floor and closed his eyes. He was exhausted. A hand pushed between the doors right before they shut, then a figure slipped in and Neil’s breath caught. 

“Hey,” he barely managed, looking at Andrew’s bored expression. 

“Still here? Some dedication, Josten.”

Neil snorted. “Says you.”

“My manager said I’m hostile with the fans.”

“He’s right.”

Before Andrew could reply the cabin shook, something screeched and the elevator stopped all at once. Neil felt it in his stomach. 

“The fuck was that?” Andrew said, but his voice was a little rougher than usual. 

Neil pressed a couple of buttons and nothing moved. He pressed another one before Andrew caught his wrist to stop him. 

“What are you, five? It won’t start working if you press _all_ buttons, Neil.”

“Which one is the alarm?”

Neil reached for a button again and Andrew bodily stepped between him and the panel. 

“I need a minute,” Andrew said.

“Okay. For?”

Andrew looked at the floor, then back up to Neil’s eyes, and Neil didn’t know what to do with himself. His heart couldn’t possibly beat this fast. 

“Earlier. I shouldn’t have said the thing about… the date.”

“Really, you need to be stuck in an elevator so you can talk to me?”

“No. But it helps.”

“Fine. Yeah, you shouldn’t have. I’m not dating him.”

Andrew pinned his elbow against the wall and leaned his head onto it, looking at Neil. “So you keep saying.”

“That’s because I’m not.”

“I know what you're like with someone when you've kissed them.”

“I…” Neil swallowed. “This doesn’t mean anything.”

“And you’re nothing, and this isn’t a this? Don’t steal from my playbook. Come up with your own miserable bullshit.” There was a strain in Andrew’s voice that Neil couldn’t place but he wasn’t going to overthink again. It didn’t do him any good last time. 

Andrew pushed the alarm button.

“What the fuck do you care?” Neil snapped. 

“I don’t.”

“Then why are you digging into it? Why bring it up on interviews? Why say anything about it in public?”

“Maybe you should stop lying about it.”

And Neil lost it. He wasn’t even sure what he was saying. He only knew it was coming from a place where he’d stored his feeling for two fucking years and the walls had finally broken down, letting all of it out at once. 

“Maybe you should mind your own goddamn business, Drew. Are you honestly that incapable of letting people be happy?”

He was shouting now.

“What are you talking about,” Andrew raised his hand to shush him and Neil slapped it away. 

“You don’t want me but no one else can want me? Is that it?”

“For God’s sake—”

“No! Don’t act like I’m imagining shit up. Why’d you have to touch me like that when Cristian was there on the balcony? Did you really care how I was or did you just want him to see you can?”

“Are you serious?”

“I’m dead fucking serious.”

“You were in the middle of a panic attack, you fucking asshole! I’m sorry that your stupid boyfriend is an incompetent dick and doesn’t know shit about how to help you. Here’s a hint: maybe talk about it so someone else wouldn’t have to do this instead of him.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

Andrew stepped forward, faster than a bullet, and slammed his fist on the wall next to Neil’s head. “Stop lying to me!”

Andrew’s hands pressed on the wall, trapping Neil between them. His breaths came out heavy and hot, brushing against Neil’s chin. Neil couldn’t look away. He didn’t want to. Andrew’s eyes burned on Neil’s face. Every fiber in Neil’s body urged him closer, begged him to melt those last few inches and press Andrew against him. 

Andrew leaned closer, his lips almost brushing Neil’s, and everything stopped. Neil was weightless, out of his body, out of his mind, he was walking on an edge of a cliff, about to step off. 

He had to wait. Had to hear the question. He couldn’t think straight. Andrew’s breath against his lips stripped down all illusions of control Neil had at this moment. 

Then Andrew whispered against Neil’s lips, “I hate you.” 

And just like that, Neil snapped back to reality. The doors started opening, the alarm shut down. Andrew pulled away from him. 

“You okay, guys?” the technician said. 

Neil nodded. 

Andrew shot him a venomous look. “This whole friendship bullshit was a mistake,” he said. 

Then he was gone, leaving Neil shattered. Again. 

  
  



	10. Nicky's 'after-wedding' wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaron gives Andrew a metaphorical punch in the face.  
> It's a wedding! Neil and Andrew might kiss, who knows? Ha! Just kidding.  
> There's some begging. There's light in the tunnel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I KNOW that *this* Aaron is not canon at all, but I refuse to believe he's incapable of change. So, that's the Aaron you get, not sorry.
> 
> P.S: This fic turned longer than I planned. Soo.. maybe 14 chapters? We'll see.

_April 16_

The wedding was beautiful. Aaron didn’t think he'd cried so much in… who was he kidding, he’d _never_ cried so much. Katelyn looked like something taken out of a dream. Nicky and Erik wore complimenting suits, Nicky’s shirt color was the same as Erik’s tie, and they were both just absolutely gorgeous. 

Katelyn was dancing with Kevin, Wymack made a funny comment on Kevin’s dance moves somewhere behind him as he twirled Abby round. There were stars on the ceiling, and soft lights dancing on the walls. Dim lighting and candles in the middle of the tables. 

The alcohol in Aaron’s blood added an extra layer of sweet haze in his mind. It was all so beautiful and warm he didn’t want to ever leave this place. 

But one thing darkened the beautiful happy cloud he was floating onto. Andrew leaned his head in his palm, staring at Neil dancing with Allison across the hall. The two had not said a word to each other since they came here. Not surprising at all, after what Andrew had said to Neil at that Sports Expo event. 

Andrew had been a storm cloud for two days after it and refused to talk about it. Aaron didn’t push; he simply called Kevin, and God, did Kevin have a lot to say about his brother. 

Now, Andrew’s eyes were glued on Neil, following him like a fucking hunter did prey. Which was helping exactly no one.

It could’ve been the alcohol or the fact that Aaron had hit his limit on Andrew-bullshit, he wasn’t sure, but enough was enough. He loved Andrew, God, he did, but his brother was the most stubborn and hopeless human walking this earth. 

Aaron leaned closer to Andrew, whispered “bathroom”, and headed to the door, not sparing a glance back to check if Andrew was actually following. 

He leaned against the sink in the bathroom and waited. 

There was a chance Aaron could make things worse. He was always worried something he said or did could break that fragile thing between him and Andrew. Katelyn had said he worried for no reason and that Andrew and he were not as fragile as he thought they were. But then again, she’d always believed their bond was stronger than Aaron suspected it was in reality. 

Andrew walked in a couple of minutes later.

Aaron reached the door and turned the lock. 

Both of them stared at each other for a long moment. Aaron finally decided where to go with this. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, and thank God for the alcohol, cause he wouldn’t have the guts to say those things to his brother without it. 

“I’m going to ask you something and you’re going to tell me the truth and not your shit answers for once. Think you can do that?”

Andrew raised an eyebrow. “Yes.”

Good start. 

“Do you love him?” 

Andrew’s face paled. He narrowed his eyes, but Aaron had already learned to read that stone facade like an open book. His brother looked like a deer in headlights for a few seconds. 

“It’s a simple question. You can panic about it if you need to, but then you’re still gonna have to answer it.”

Andrew swallowed. “Yes.” His voice was raw as if he’d swallowed sand. 

Good. Now Aaron could drop the bomb and shake the ground under Andrew’s feet. Someone had to. 

“And which part of that scares you so much that you’d rather push Neil away and hurt him all the time than do something about it?”

Andrew moved to the window, pushed it open, and took a cigarette out. Pushing him now would be a mistake, so Aaron waited. He watched Andrew light the cigarette, take a long drag and swallow a few times. 

“I’m not hurting him,” was the bullshit he finally came up with. 

Aaron was seriously going to slam his stupid head into a wall or something. 

“You’ve spent the better part of your season taunting him online, you go to see if he’s okay after he got hurt, and then you shut him down when he comes to your apartment.” Andrew’s head snapped around. “Yes, I talked to Matt about it after that email you sent me at three in the morning. Don’t even look at me like that. I saw how you were at the Expo. Kevin told me what you said to Neil.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I want you to stop lying to yourself, Andrew. You give him bits of you, you give him hope and then you take it away. I don’t know what that’s like in your world but in normal people’s world, this is how you hurt people. How you destroy them. Is this what you want?”

Aaron saw the second his words hit their mark. Andrew’s still-water facade cracked; a muscle in his jaw twitched, his breaths grew shallow and quick.

“I don’t know how to handle it. Him being with someone else. I can’t do this. It’s fucking killing me!” Andrew gripped the windowsill. 

“Has it ever crossed your mind that he’d decided to try with someone else because you keep shutting him down?”

Andrew threw the cigarette out and slammed the window. “I pushed him away because I don’t want him to come back out of guilt. I don’t want him like that. I don’t want to be a liability. I want him to come back because he lo—”

Andrew punched the drywall.

Aaron didn’t think getting physically closer to him would help. “Andrew, anyone with half a brain cell can see he loves you.”

“He doesn’t. Not after what I did to him. Not anymore.” Andrew’s voice sounded like it came from beneath a boulder of rocks.

“How come someone who reads people the way you do not see what’s right in front of your nose?”

“I know Neil. His mind is so fucked up, he’d probably never stop feeling guilty for… July. Did you forget he was the absolute fucking idiot who put himself in Riko’s hands to be tortured cause he might have or might have not helped me? Because _“he couldn’t live with himself”_. This is just guilt, nothing more than that.”

“Shut. Up.” Aaron’s voice rose this time. Well, fuck self-control then. “He _loves you_ , you absolute imbecile! Fuck knows why, but he does. If you’d pulled that shit on anyone else, they’d probably stab you and move on, but Neil fucking loves you. Yes, still. Yes, that much.” Andrew opened his mouth to say something. “Don’t interrupt me. If you don’t get your shit together, you’re going to lose him. And I don't mean like now because now the door’s still open for you. You’re going to _lose him_ lose him and there will be no going back from that.”

Andrew stared at Aaron as if he’d revealed the world’s greatest mystery. Did he really think he could have Neil at arm’s length indefinitely, have him run back to him like a mindless puppy every time Andrew whistled? God, Katelyn was right. Aaron _was_ the smarter twin. Idiot!

“You’re going to lose him, Andrew,” Aaron said, the heat in his voice melted away. 

Andrew took a step back, looking like someone had ripped his insides apart. “I don’t know what…” He pressed the back of his hand over his mouth. 

“That’s on you to decide. But you have to make a choice. This isn’t fair to you and most of all, it isn’t fair to Neil. You can either let him go, stay out of his business, stay out of whatever he has with his teammate, stop taunting him every second, let him actually _try_ being happy.”

Andrew swallowed a sound. 

“Or. You can fix this shit. And when I say fix it, I mean that you actually have to do something this time, and your usual “I’m gonna stare Neil to death and tell him I hate him” crap isn’t going to work.”

“That… that’s basically a love declaration.”

“You have a single brain cell.”

Andrew pushed past Aaron and splashed water over his face, then looked at his reflection in the mirror for a long moment.

“You okay?”

Andrew clenched the edge of the sink. “I don’t want to lose him.”

“I know. I know you don’t. We have this place until midnight, and then the whole day in Columbia tomorrow. Talk to him.”

“And say what? ‘Hey remember I told you to fuck off? I meant the opposite.’”

“Half a brain cell, Jesus. I don’t know, Andrew, what did you do the first time? I really doubt he fell mindlessly in love with you for your sunny personality.”

“You’re a dick when you’re drunk.” Andrew pushed him away and unlocked the door. 

“Don’t blame alcohol. It’s in the Minyard DNA.”

Andrew snorted derisively and shut the door behind him. 

So that went well. Aaron made a mental note to make sure he leaves Neil and Andrew alone every chance that he got. Maybe convince them to go Eden’s for old time’s sake? Maybe trick a guy to go over and flirt with Neil? That usually got a heated reaction from Andrew. Apparently, death threats were considering flirting for those two idiots. He should totally do it.

*********

Neil caught himself staring at Nicky and Erik dancing, and daydreaming for the third time that evening. He remembered years ago when Nicky talked about Erik. _“Feel like I could lean on him all day and he wouldn’t break a sweat.”_ It was fascinating watching the mouthy, euphoric Nicky hold on to Erik like he was the one thing to keep him grounded. Like he was Nicky’s personal source of gravity. 

It was beautiful. The whole wedding was. Aaron gave a speech that left Nicky a sobbing mess by Erik’s side. Neil didn’t even know Aaron Minyard was physically capable of expressing that many feelings with actual words. 

Every time Neil looked at Andrew, he found his eyes bored into him. He looked again and sure enough, the hazel brown met him with a burning stare. Neil looked back at the dance floor. He remembered the first time Andrew and he danced together. It was a New Year’s party in Matt’s house, all the Foxes were there and somewhere far after midnight, when everyone was delightfully drunk, Andrew caught Neil’s hand and dragged him in the middle of Matt’s living room. Matt and Dan had moved the furniture around in the huge room, put lights on and even cut stars out of paper. Neil didn’t remember the song, but he remembered Andrew’s hand on his waist, his breath against Neil’s collar bone, his lips moving as he hummed the lyrics into his skin. 

Neil couldn’t bear looking at Andrew tonight. He gulped another glass of whiskey, ignoring Allison’s raised eyebrows, and headed to the back door. He needed air. Away from everyone, away from thoughts about dancing and Andrew’s existence. 

Outside he leaned against the wall, staring at the parking lot. He slid down the wall and sat on the concrete, hugging his knees to his chest. Neil wanted to be here, he really did. Nicky had pulled away from him when Andrew broke up with Neil, but never completely, not like Andrew and Aaron had. He’d still send him texts for his birthday and Christmas, for his graduation and when he’d joined the Cardinals. Nicky’s wedding wasn’t something Neil wanted to miss. But God, it hurt to look at Andrew, to be this close to him and not be able to talk to him or touch him. 

Neil had two months to work on his heartbreak and tonight he was back at square one. All progress, gone, just because Andrew was looking at him like he was seeing into his soul. 

The door opened. Neil’s head snapped expecting to see Allison or Kevin or Matt, checking on him. Instead, he met Andrew’s heavy stare. Fuck.

Neil jumped to his feet and headed back inside without saying a word. 

“Neil, wait,” Andrew muttered. 

Neil could do this. He wasn’t a fucking spineless doormat. “We have nothing to talk about.”

“Please.”

Neil froze in his spot. Andrew _never_ said that word. Andrew’s fingers wrapped around his shoulder, sending sparks across his skin. 

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Andrew leaned against the wall, waiting for Neil to do the same. And then they were shoulder to shoulder, the point where their bodies touched spreading heat through Neil’s body. 

“I’m sorry,” Andrew said so quietly Neil thought he imagined it. 

“You’re sorry?” This was ridiculous. “For which part exactly?”

“All of it.” Andrew turned slightly sideways to meet Neil’s eyes. His head tilted against the wall. “I’m sorry I was a dick. And that I pushed you away. And for that shit in the elevator. Should I go on? I’m pretty sure you remember all the shit I’ve said to you.”

“Andrew…” Neil searched for the right words, but he didn’t think there were any of those when it came to Andrew. Not anymore. “I… appreciate the apology.”

Andrew snorted. “What’s that, your on-camera media talk?” He shook his head. “Aaron’s wrong, isn’t he…” he mumbled under his breath. “I’ve already lost you.”

“Lost me?” Neil’s face heated. “ _Lost me_? Are you fucking serious, Drew?”

“Neil—”

“No! You can’t lose something you never wanted in the first place. You didn’t lose me. You _wanted_ me out of your goddamn life. You pushed me out of it.” 

Neil’s mind was hazy, his head too light, his breaths too quick, too shallow. 

“What do you want from me, Drew? I can’t keep doing this. Just… what do you want?”

Andrew pressed his fingers to Neil’s jawline. “You. I want you.”

Neil felt the world tilt beneath his feet. 

“Stop.”

“Neil…”

Neil pulled back, shoving Andrew’s hand away from his face. “Stop playing with me.”

“I’m not.”

“The fuck you’re not. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t have you care one day and then tell me I mean nothing to you the next.”

“I didn’t say you mean nothing to me.”

Neil snorted. “You did. That’s exactly what you said when I came to your apartment.”

“Well, I lied.”

“Well, I don’t fucking care!” Neil was shouting now. 

He turned on his heel and stormed for the door. A hand on his shoulder turned him forcefully around. 

“Don’t do this.”

“Don’t do what? How long do you think I need before I take the fucking hint? Cause it’s been months of this back-and-forth bullshit and I’m tired.”

Andrew cupped Neil’s face between his palms. His thumbs brushed against Neil’s cheeks. “I made the wrong call. I know you have no reason to believe me now, but I never wanted to push you away.”

“Then what the hell did you want to do, Drew? Cause it sure as hell looked like it.”

“I know. I know I handled things… horribly.”

Neil put his hands over Andrew’s, gripping at his fingers, gently pulling him away. “I can’t.”

Andrew stepped closer. “Stay. Neil…”

“Andrew, I can’t—”

Andrew pressed his forehead to Neil’s and Neil practically melted at the touch. 

“Let me make this right. I’m not saying you should give me an answer now. Just… promise you’ll think about it. I want you back, Neil. I want to try this again.”

Neil barely forced any words out at all. “I need—” Andrew’s finger on his lips shut him up. 

“You’ve got all the time you need. I’ll wait.”

Neil's head was so fucking fuzzy, he wanted to push Andrew against that wall and kiss him stupid until he forgot those two—no, almost three now—years apart even existed. 

Instead, he stepped away and walked back in, determined to drink until he didn’t feel a thing anymore. 

Two hours later, he was pretty close to target. Between two periods of time that went completely foggy, he found himself holding onto Nicky, an arm around his waist, babbling about how handsome Erik and Nicky looked in those suits. Nicky laughed and patted his hair sympathetically. 

He spotted Andrew leaning against a table, arms crossed at his chest, following Neil around the hall. 

“N-nicky,” Neil slurred. 

“Yes, babe, do you want to sit down? Lie down maybe?”

“Nooo,” Neil almost whined. “I want to dance. Play something slow.”

Nicky laughed again. “Sure. Are you going to dance alone?”

“Mmyes.”

The song Nicky chose was a soft, old one, Neil didn’t know it. He moved away from Nicky, swaying his hips to the smooth rhythm. All those lessons from Nicky and Allison weren’t for nothing. 

Neil liked the voice of the singer. So smooth, it was digging a path to his soul. 

_Now your sad eyes reveal just how badly you feel_

_'Cause there is no easy way down_

He sensed the pine aftershave and cigarette scent before he felt hands around his waist. Neil turned to find Andrew’s lidded gaze. 

Andrew leaned closer. “Put your hands wherever.”

Neil sneaked an arm around Andrew’s waist, another sliding up his chest, and he let Andrew lead him the way he wanted him to move. 

Somewhere behind him, he heard Nicky’s whispers to Erik in German, but he couldn’t make out the words. 

He pulled closer, like he wanted to melt Andrew’s body against his own. Neil was so far gone, he hadn’t gotten his thoughts straight three drinks after their talk outside. But who the fuck cared? He had Andrew under his palms, his breath at his neck, the heat of his body leaching into Neil’s. It was all he wanted. Even if tomorrow it didn’t mean a thing to Andrew. He wanted this now. 

In another clearer moment through the haze, he was taking shots from the table with his mouth and shooting them back hands-free. Matt handed a bill to Allison, frowning. 

“Told you, bitches! Don’t bet against me.”

Another snap out of the haze. Neil had an arm wrapped around Aaron’s shoulder and he was talking in his ear in a mix of German and English that he was a great brother to Andrew. Or so he thought. 

Another snap. 

“‘m telling you, I can nail the dude in the eye. Drew, give me a fuckin’ knife!”

“Okay, Neil, that’s not a good idea.” That was Matt.

“Mm-no, i’ss a great idea. Drew, did you hear me about the knife?”

Neil threw the knife to an oil painting on the wall, catching the man on it in the eye. He looked over at Allison. 

“If you didn’t bet on that, you’re crazy.” Laughter cut the rest of it. 

Another snap. 

“Drew, I can walk, you dick, let me go.”

“You threw up in the Uber car.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“Mm-no. That wasn’t in the car.”

Andrew muttered an exasperated ‘oh my god’.

“Mmyou know you’re really pretty on that stupid adidas poster? I hate it.” Then he spurred into French, and he didn’t realize it until the last word. “Not ‘s much as I hate the sport illustrated one though. D’you really have to show your abs for it? So hot. You’re so stupid hot. Bastard.”

Then everything turned in a complete blur. 

*********

Andrew woke up to Neil’s face turned to him. 

He hadn’t felt that warm tide in his chest for so long, it came as a little jolt of shock when it rose up. He pushed a curl out of Neil’s eyes and watched him sleep for an hour before he sneaked out of the bed. 

He snatched his phone from the nightstand and threw it on the kitchen counter before he headed to take a shower. 

Coming to the house in Columbia was a bad idea. Too many memories of Neil and him, too many breathless nights, too many morning kisses and laughs and hands on bare skin. 

After the shower, Andrew opened the thread of messages from Kevin. Correction: death threats from Kevin. Impressive really, he’d included new additions that could put good old baby Kevin to shame any day. 

Andrew had found Neil running around the parking lot like a lost puppy last night, and against every reason, he decided to take him to the house in Columbia instead of his hotel room with Kevin. Objectively, a bad idea now that he was sober. 

He rummaged through the fridge, which had enough food to feed an Exy team, courtesy to Aaron and Katelyn, and took out eggs, some veggies and bacon, and bread rolls. 

Aaron had left a note on the counter, saying _“Brunch with Nicky & Erik, have fun.” _The goddamn asshole. 

Neil dragged himself out of the bedroom just as Andrew finished with the bacon. 

“Hey. Umm… I have questions.”

“I’m sure you do. Go take a shower.”

Neil did without protest. 

Andrew poured the scrambled eggs into two plates and arranged the bacon strips on the side. His stomach clenched. Sure, last night was fun. Seeing Neil so loose was a sight Andrew would look at every day, but it was all the alcohol in his blood. What if he regretted it? Dancing with him, letting Andrew touch him, sleeping in his bed. He probably did, and Andrew’s heart beat madly at his throat waiting for Neil to slap him with his words. 

Neil popped out of the bathroom looking significantly less hungover. He sat on the chair across from Andrew, staring at his plate as if it was a magic trick. 

“Since when do you cook?”

“Since I can’t feed myself on oatmeal and ice cream alone.”

“There’s take out.”

“Shut. Up. Just eat your breakfast.”

Neil pushed the eggs around with his fork. “So, about my questions.”

“Okay, yeah. Shoot.”

“Did I say anything stupid?”

“Everything you say is stupid.”

Neil squinted his eyes. “Okay, okay. No. Except for this one thing you mumbled in French. I can’t guarantee anything there but since it was just me, you’re safe.”

“Why am I wearing your clothes?”

“You threw up on your suit.”

“I didn’t…. Oh, God, I did, didn’t I? Fuck.” Neil thunked his head into the counter. “Shit, there was an Uber, too.” He snapped back up. 

“Yeah. That one was fun. The poor guy almost hit a road sign because of it.”

Neil picked a piece of bacon. “Why am I here, Drew?”

“I don’t know.”

Neil nibbled on the bacon in tiny bites like a rabbit. “You don’t know.”

“I… I didn’t want to leave you alone.”

“Okay.”

“You’re not mad.”

“No. It’s not like I haven’t been in this house what, like a thousand times?”

“Good point.”

Neil stuffed another bacon strip and a few mouthfuls of eggs in his mouth. “Um, I should probably go. I think Kevin’s brain is melting.” Neil looked down at his phone.

“Sure? Is there anything left to melt there?”

Neil pointed the fork at Andrew, his eye narrowing. 

“Okay, I won’t trash talk Queen Day. I’ll drive you.”

Neil picked up his stuff and headed to the door. He was quieter than usual, which wasn’t a problem if Andrew didn’t know Neil’s face so well. He was overthinking, and that never led to anything good. 

The drive went silently. It drove the anxiety in Andrew’s stomach to a breaking point. 

Before Neil left, he stopped with his hand on the door. 

“About what you said yesterday,” Neil started. 

_Oh, God, here we go._

“I don’t know what to do. I really don’t, Drew.”

“I can’t tell you that. I told you what I want, but you don’t have to do what I want. Do what _you_ want.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Because of Diaz?”

“Are you…” Neil ran a hand over his face. “I’m. Not. Dating. Diaz! Jesus!”

Andrew didn’t believe that at all. He stared at Neil, waiting for him to go on. 

“I don’t want you to hurt me anymore.”

And it hit Andrew right in the heart, like an icy spear. 

_‘I’m not hurting him,'_ he'd told Aaron. Except Aaron was right. This was exactly what Andrew had been doing this whole time. 

Fucking hell, he didn’t even deserve a chance. What was he even fighting here for? Was Neil ever going to trust him again? Right at this moment, it didn’t seem like an option at all. 

“I don’t want to do that,” Andrew whispered. 

“I need some time. And space.”

“I told you I’d wait. I didn’t lie. Take your time. I’ll be here.”

Neil smiled a sad little smile and jumped out of the car, dropping the temperature around Andrew with a few degrees. 

_I’ll wait. I’ll be here._ It was a promise. He wouldn’t break this one. He’d already broken too many things with Neil. 

  
  



	11. An end of a season

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy worries he might have accidentally screwed Neil over.  
> Jeremy & Kevin are sweethearts.  
> Neil has to make a decision.

The Cardinals were losing. The Hawks were losing even worse. The eternal fight for the top spot in the league swiftly shifted to a fight for who will be a little higher than the other, because by this point it was pretty clear the Chicago Rebels were going to win the championship. 

Neil didn’t get it. The Rebels weren’t even that good, they just got lucky. With two games left in the season, there wasn’t much either the Cardinals or the Hawks could change. 

The Cardinals had a game against the Minneapolis Bears in Dallas tonight, and Neil couldn’t care less if they won or lost. It would make absolutely no difference. 

Cristian sent Neil links to their old games. The backliner held a grudge against the Bears’ captain and he’d give his best to not let them win. That was mostly what Neil and Cristian talked about lately. Cristian never said anything but since the Sports Expo something was different. He’d slowly backed away from anything romantic with Neil and, in all honestly, Neil didn’t mind. At all. 

He was happy to sink back into their obsessive past-games analyses and Exy talks. It felt easy. There was some kind of understanding in the way Cristian treated Neil, as if he knew, he _knew_ Neil wasn’t able to move on, and the best thing to do was let him go. And it was a relief their friendship pushed through it, unscattered. Most people couldn’t do that. But then again, Cristian Diaz was a lot more decent person than most people.

Neil was nibbling cheese cubes, rewatching the last Bears’ game when his phone buzzed. 

**Jeremy Knox [10:21]**

_Hey, is Kev with you? I need to talk to you alone._

Neil frowned at his phone. 

_He’s at the gym. What’s up?_

Jeremy called immediately. 

_“Hey, Neil. Do you have time before the game today? Or after? Anytime works for me really,”_ Jeremy jumped right to the point. 

“I… Sure. Is everything okay, Jer? You sound… I don’t know. Is everything okay?”

_“Yes, all good. I need to talk to you in person. I landed two hours ago so whenever you’re free. Don’t tell Kev. I have to clear something with you first.”_

Neil didn’t know what to make of this. 

“Alright. You remember that cafe with the blue-tinted windows?”

_“Sure. Lazuli’s. When?”_

“Thirty minutes?”

_“Ok. I’ll be there.”_

Jeremy sounded on edge and he always called Kevin first before anyone else even knew he would visit. Something was definitely off. 

Neil arrived at the cafe first. He ordered a black coffee and sat in a relatively concealed booth, waiting for Jeremy. A few minutes later, Jeremy’s radiant smile greeted him as he slipped into the booth, holding a cup of coffee. 

“Hey. Thanks for doing that. I know you have a game and you probably have things to do.”

“Jer, it’s okay. Really. Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Jeremy shifted nervously in his seat. “Okay. Here’s the thing. This wasn’t the Hawks’ best season and there will be changes in the team. They’re transferring one of our backliners.” Neil drew a sharp breath at that. “Not Matt. That asshole Becker. Good riddance really. They’re recruiting Jean. Moreau that is.”

Neil smiled. Of course, he knew which Jean Jeremy referred to. He couldn’t hide the twitch in his face whenever he said Jean’s name. Honestly, how was Kevin so blinded all those years not to notice all the signs? 

“Okay,” Neil said slowly. 

“I requested a transfer.”

“You did? Where to?”

Jeremy chewed on his coffee stirrer, a faint flush crawling in his cheeks. 

“The Cardinals.”

Neil stared at him blankly. “But… but our offense line is full.”

“Yes. So I’ve been told. Anyways, my managers talked to the Cardinals’ managers and the only option they offered is that they switch strikers. Which is… you and me.”

Neil’s heart stuttered. “What?”

“The Hawks have wanted you for a long time and—”

“You want to take my place on the team?” Oh, God, that sounded utterly pathetic. "I mean..."

Jeremy swallowed. “No. Neil, this isn’t—”

Neil couldn’t control the heat spreading in his face. “Did you ask me here to convince me to transfer from my team? I like my team, Jeremy. And Kevin’s here.”

“Oh, believe me, I know. But… Okay, I’ll try again. I think I messed up what I wanted to say. I called you to come here cause I wanted to give you a heads up. I didn’t know they were going to offer that option. I just wanted to transfer for…” Jeremy licked his lips. 

“Kevin. Shocking. Go on.”

Jeremy’s face flushed around the ears. “Okay, yes. I wanted to transfer to be closer to Kevin. Then they said it’s not an option and I backed down. But yesterday my manager came to me and told me that they’re going to make an offer to you and if you agreed, then we can switch teams. I wanted to tell you first so you won’t be blindsided. And I wanted to say this wasn’t what I asked for. I really didn’t, Neil. I don’t want you to think that—”

“Okay, okay, Jeremy.” Neil patted his shoulder lightly. “Breathe. I think you’re panicking a little.”

Jeremy forced a small smile. “No shit.”

“So… they’re going to offer me a transfer.”

“Yes. I know my name will pop up in that conversation and I wanted to come clean with you. This isn’t how I wanted to do this. It’s not fair to put you in that position because of what I want. It’s just… It’s not fair.”

Leave it to Jeremy Knox to have a meltdown when fair play was involved. Neil remembered their last game in the championship in Neil’s freshman year, the nine-people line-up Jeremy had insisted on because it was “fair”. He’d put that same “fair” above his own wellbeing any day. 

“Okay, Jer. Thank you for telling me that.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to steer the whole thing this way. I know you’re good here and Kev’s here and you’re… Anyway. Turn them down, and please, _please_ , don’t factor me and Kev in your decision. That’s the only thing I’m asking of you. Please, Neil.”

Neil chuckled. “Alright. Alright. You’re too good for our bunch, Knox. Way too kind.”

Jeremy laughed. “I have my moments. Kev can testify on that.”

And just like that, it was back to normal, easy, no-pressure Jeremy Knox time. It was a talent, really, to make people feel weightless just by existing. Jeremy Knox did just that.

Neil wasn’t sure what to do with the transfer offer. It had been almost a month since Nicky’s wedding and the conversation with Andrew. Andrew didn’t push him, just like he’d promised. But that didn’t mean Neil had decided what to do. 

The day went in a blur. The Cardinals won. After the game, Neil’s manager called him in and there it was: the transfer offer. It was generous, there was no denying that. The Hawks really wanted to give Neil a reason to transfer and judging by the obscene amount of money they offered him, they were willing to go a long way to do that. 

Neil had until the last game for the season to think about it, before the season-end conference. Which gave him exactly ten measly days. 

Neil drove to his apartment, listing the pros and cons for the transfer in his head:

**Cons**

  * _Leaving Kevin behind._


  * _New team, new adjustment period._


  * _Leaving his team. Neil really liked his team._



**Pros**

  * _More money. Given the Moriyamas took a significant cut of Neil’s earnings, he couldn’t complain about that._


  * _He could shine on his own, and not as a pair with Kevin (Kevin was a marvel and their game together was outstanding, but Neil always wondered how he would do on his own.)_


  * _He’d be closer to PSU, and still see Kevin whenever he visited Wymack._


  * _Matt._


  * _Andrew. In whichever way Neil decided to go on with him._



Neil walked into his apartment to find Jeremy Knox pressed against the wall and Kevin with his hands under his shirt, biting into his neck. 

He chuckled at their startled reaction. Kevin pulled away so fast, he stumbled to his own feet. Both their faces flushed like they were a pair of flustered teenagers who got walked in on by their parents. It was endearing really. 

Neil chuckled. “Ummm, should I come back later?”

“N-no, I… Um, sorry, I thought you were coming back in an hour.”

Jeremy looked like he was about to pass out. 

Neil couldn’t suppress his amusement. “Okay. I’m gonna grab a fruit bowl and go watch the game. With my headphones on.”

“Oh, my God,” Jeremy muttered, the flush deepening. 

Neil grabbed some fruits and a bottle of water and left Kevin and Jeremy, blushing like the total idiots they were. Kevin wasn’t shy about anything around Neil. He had no idea what got him so flustered when Jeremy was involved. 

**Pros addition** : Kevin and Jeremy together.

He put the game on and turned the volume up. Neil had to clear something up with Andrew before he made any decision about this. He typed a message. 

_Walked in on Kevin and Jeremy making out._

**Drew [23:14]**

_Did Jeremy pass out?_

_Ha! No. But he looked like he was about to._

**Drew [23:15]**

_I found him staring at a selfie from Kevin once. He was blushing half the time during the practice that day._

_I wanted to talk to you about something._

**Drew [23:16]**

_Call?_

_No. I’m pretty sure I don’t wanna take my headphones off and hear what’s happening in the other room right now._

**Drew [23:17]**

_Ok, tell me then._

_So… What if we just stay friends?_

**Drew [23:23]**

_If that’s what you want, then we just stay friends._

_That simple? No trash talk, no public crap?_

**Drew [23:24]**

_That simple. I told you I don’t want to hurt you again, I meant that._

_Okay._

Well, that was something. If Neil could trust Andrew about it. If he transferred and decided he wanted to be just friends with him, would it really work? Would it really be okay with both of them playing on the same team? 

Neil had no idea. Andrew said it would be fine. But then again, Andrew said a lot of things. Neil wasn’t sure if he believed all of them. 

He had ten days to decide. Decide if he really wanted this, if he could trust Andrew’s word, if they could play together and stay friends and everything would be okay.

*********

Kevin woke up with Jeremy pressed against his back. His slow breaths ticked the back of his neck. When he moved, Jeremy shifted behind him and wrapped his arm around Kevin’s waist. 

“Morning, gorgeous,” Jeremy mumbled against his skin. He ran his tongue up Kevin’s neck.

Kevin shivered. “Hi,” he whispered through a gasp as Jeremy’s hand traveled down his navel and slipped under the waistband of his boxers. Fuck, Jeremy could get him hard just looking at him. It was ridiculous. 

“J-Jer, you have a plane to catch.”

Jeremy slid a finger along the length of Kevin’s cock. “Mhm.” His thumb pressed onto the head, eliciting a stifled moan out of Kevin. Jeremy kissed his neck, his hand wrapping around his cock and stroking him gently. 

Kevin bit his lip fighting against another moan. It was useless. All the efforts were completely useless when Jeremy did that. He could drive him off the edge within minutes. 

“Still worried about my plane?”

Kevin couldn’t form a coherent word. He let out a sound that might have meant anything really. 

Jeremy’s hand left his boxers. “Okay, right, I have to hurry, then.”

Kevin rolled on his back, catching his breath. “You’re such a tease.”

Jeremy laughed. He climbed on top of Kevin, his knees pressing on both sides of Kevin’s hips. “I’m a tease?” He leaned down an inch shy of kissing him. Kevin pushed himself up to chase his lips and Jeremy pulled back. 

“You fucker,” he said as he let his head fall back down on the pillow. 

Jeremy licked his lips and pushed his tongue in his mouth. He tracked kissed down his jawline, his neck, nibbled on his collarbone in a way that sent all Kevin’s blood into his dick. 

Jeremy moved down, his tongue painting circles down Kevin’s stomach. 

“Jeremy.” It was ridiculous how Jeremy reduced Kevin’s vocabulary to five words when his tongue was on him. 

He pulled Kevin’s boxers down and teased the tip of his cock with his tongue until Kevin was a babbling mess beneath him. 

“Jeremy, God, please.”

Jeremy swallowed him whole down to his throat. Kevin couldn’t bite down the groan, but he didn’t really care if Neil heard them right now. Jeremy bobbed his head up and down, pushing Kevin closer to the edge so fast his head spun. He wrapped his fingers at the base of Kevin’s cock and Kevin’s vision blurred. He came with his fingers buried into the sheets and Jeremy’s name dripping from his mouth in a train of _yes_ es and _God_ s and _babe_ s. 

Kevin was boneless, floating in a thick dopamine cloud. Jeremy kissed his way back to his mouth. 

“ _Now_ , I can go catch my flight.”

Kevin almost whined, “No, Jer, babe.” He wrapped both arms around Jeremy’s waist, pressing him tightly against his body. 

Jeremy laughed. “I have plans for us for the off-season months. You’re going to like it.”

The understatement of the century. Kevin wanted to wrap himself around Jeremy and never let him out of his bedroom. 

He watched him walk around in a towel, then put his clothes on, all of it so fast, he wanted to slow down time and stay in this moment. Jeremy combed his fingers through his wet hair and looked at his watch. Something like panic flashed in his eyes. 

He leaned over Kevin and kissed him wetly. “I’ll call you when I’m back.” 

And he was gone. 

Kevin stayed in bed for another hour before he gathered the willpower to crawl out. Jeremy going away from him always felt like a grey, winter sky after the most gorgeous summer day. He hated every second of it. 

He took an excessively long time in the shower, his head pressed against the wet tiles, overly-warm water hitting against his back. This was hard, too hard. It wasn’t like he hadn’t done long-distance relationships before. _All_ his relationships were like that. But this time, it drained the life out of him whenever Jeremy had to go back to Atlanta. 

Kevin knew it was going to be a bad day. One of those that Neil said he was “moping around the apartment all day”. He found Neil in the kitchen making oatmeal. 

“Hey,” Kevin muttered. 

“Hey. I’d ask what’s wrong with you but I gather Jeremy left so…” 

Kevin gave him a thumbs up. 

“Okay. So. I need to talk to you.”

Oh, shit. It was not a good time for serious talk and Neil never said _“I need to talk to you”_ unless it was serious. 

“Are you dying?”

“What? No!”

“Is someone dead, then?”

“Kevin!”

“I’m guessing that’s a no. Then we should probably talk later.” 

Neil sighed. “God, aren’t you tragic.”

“‘m not tragic. I just… Nevermind.”

“Want your sunshine loverboy here all day every day, got it. Well, this is what I want to talk about.” 

Kevin raised an eyebrow. “Umm… okay?”

“Not like… Jeremy specifically, but it’s related.”

“Just spill already.”

Neil propped himself against the kitchen counter, looking at Kevin intently. “I might switch teams.”

Well, that worked for a fucking wake up call. Kevin’s head snapped up. “You _what_? Why? Why would you want that? I thought you were good here. What is this about, Neil?”

“Is that a meltdown? I feel like you’ve been in one giant meltdown since Jeremy left so I can’t tell.”

“Fuck you! Why do you want to leave?”

“The Hawks offered me to transfer.”

Kevin thought a blood vessel might have popped in his head. “Are you… Is this about Andrew?”

“No. Kev. No. Actually, it was what I considered a problem. Andrew and I... we can't make it. But we can still be friends, we can play on the same team. It will be okay.”

Yeah. Sure. Okay. 

“So you really want to move? I…” Kevin swallowed. “I mean, I knew we won’t play for the same team forever but…”

Neil smiled but there was a little sadness in his eyes that probably matched Kevin’s. Kevin was so used to being close to Neil, sharing an apartment, sharing a life. And now he was going to lose that. 

“I know,” Neil said. “You were on my cons list, for the record.”

“I’m flattered,” Kevin laughed weakly. 

“So, here’s the deal. Jeremy requested for a transfer. He didn’t want me to say anything until I made a decision and because he’s Jeremy he made it perfectly clear he didn’t set me up for this and he strongly suggested I said no. Not in those exact words.”

“He… what?”

“The Cardinals couldn’t do it with our strikers’ line full, so Jeremy backed out. But then the Hawks offered a deal. Me for Jeremy. And it’s a great deal. Financially speaking.”

Kevin didn’t think he was breathing. “He… what?”

Neil laughed. “Okay. Too much? Did your brain melt?”

“You’re such a shit. Are you saying Jeremy’s moving to Dallas? Are you serious, Neil?” Kevin shook Neil’s shoulders.

“Yeah. Don’t die of happiness now.” Neil chuckled. 

“It still sucks you’re moving. I mean… Jeremy’s right, Neil. Tell me you’re not doing this because—”

Neil raised a hand to shush him. “Ok, Kev, I love you, but your love life isn’t a factor in my career decisions. Calm down. I’m doing this because I want to. For me.”

Kevin smiled. His heart was going to burst out of his chest. Not having Neil around was going to be hard to get used to. Kevin had built his ‘normal’ on Neil’s presence in his life, on his quiet bubble of serenity at home, his blatant bits of raw honesty and his frenetic energy on the court. He’d miss that more than he could put in words. 

But Jeremy.

Jeremy!

He fished his phone from his back pocket and typed a message.

_You crazy bastard, I love you so fucking much!_

He did. He really, really did, and now he wouldn’t have to live in stolen moments of happiness. He wouldn’t have to say goodbye to his heart and send him off to catch a flight away from him anymore.

*********

Andrew spotted Neil wandering the corridors before the end-of-season conference in Chicago. Usually, the players who attended the conference were either involved in the transfers at the end of the seasons, or forced to be here for good media presence. Which was Andrew’s case. Team managers tended to do that to their top-ranked players and ever since Andrew moved to that list, he’d been a constant presence in every such conference. 

Neil looked nervous when Andrew approached him.

“Hey, everything okay?”

“Yes. I’m—”

“Fine. Shocking. Now the truth?”

Neil sighed. “Just nervous, that’s all.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“I.. ummm, nothing. Too many cameras.”

Andrew snorted. “Since when are you camera-shy?”

“Since—”

“Josten, come on!” Riya Hennessy called out at the end of the corridor. 

Neil smiled. “Talk later.”

What was going on? Did Neil’s manager drag him into this, too? Was Andrew missing something? 

He trailed behind Neil and Hennessy and found his spot. Every team had a table with representatives. Cameras flashed from the center of the hall, dizzying Andrew’s head. 

It was boring as hell. Transfers, transfers, more fucking transfers. Seriously, there was this concept: social media existed. This whole charade could be skipped. They all screamed about the transfers on twitter after all this anyway. 

The Hawks’ manager spoke. 

Jeremy Knox was transferring. Fuck. What? Andrew’s head snapped around to look at his manager. 

“... to the Dallas Cardinals. We’re happy to welcome our new starting striker, Neil Josten, to the team.”

Andrew’s heart stopped for a second. He looked at Neil across the hall, his face flushed and nervous and shy. Andrew barely drew a breath in. The cameras flashed, blinding him. Reporters shot questions at both tables like paintball guns. 

Andrew couldn’t catch half of them. 

“... the rivalry between Minyard and Josten will affect the team play?”

“How is the transfer going to affect the team dynamic considering the very public feud between your goalie and your new striker?

Fucking idiots. 

The Hawks’ manager shot a look at Andrew. “Well, we’re going to find out, aren’t we?”

And that was it. He shot down all questions about the idiotic rivalry. Andrew still couldn’t quite breathe when he felt Domnic Lee’s hand slightly press against his back and then let go. Andrew nodded. 

Neil in Atlanta. 

Neil on his team. 

Neil so, so close in his life. 

Was that why Neil had asked him that question? _What if we just stay friends?_ Had he made his decision, then? Andrew’s mind buzzed into white noise. 

He didn’t know if he could bear being just Neil’s friend without losing his mind but he’d promised. No more hurting Neil. Not now, not ever. 

After the conference, he couldn’t get near Neil again. Too many people, reporters, cameras. Dominic pushed Andrew through the crowd and to the parking lot. Andrew sat in his rental car and pressed his head into the steering wheel. 

He stayed like that for a few minutes, struggling to bring his heart rate back to normal. He sent a message to Neil. 

_You didn’t tell me._

**Neil [21:04]**

_I didn’t want you to think I was asking for permission._

_I wasn’t going to think that._

**Neil [21:05]**

_You said we’d be ok, you and I. If we’re just friends._

_Yes. We are._

**Neil [21:06]**

_That’s why I signed the contract._

_Is that what you want us to be?_

**Neil [21:07]**

_Yes._

A single word that dragged Andrew’s world to a sudden stop. 

He stared at the screen as if he could erase it, change the word, change Neil’s mind. But there was no point. Neil had made a decision. 

That left Andrew with only one choice. He could either have Neil as a friend or live without him altogether. And there was no way in hell he was doing the latter again. 


	12. Shaky ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neil struggles with his new captain's attitude and gets injured on the court.  
> *Neil high on meds*  
> *Soft Andrew*

By the third practice in the pre-season training, Neil was starting to regret the transfer. Dominic Lee, the Hawks’ captain, had a certain idea of how Neil should play and it didn’t match Neil’s playing style. At all. 

The captain held an obvious resentment against Neil. It was all over his face when he spoke to Neil, in every gesture, in the heat of his retorts. He’d made sure he played against Neil every time they split into teams and practiced combinations, and Neil suspected it was just because he wanted a reason to body check him. By the end of the third practice, Neil had a couple of rather prominent bruises on his ribs.

It was a relief that Andrew and Neil still played together like a finely tuned machine, but Dominic was insufferable. His constant cutting of Neil’s moves and combinations he tried testing with his new team was starting to take its toll on Neil. 

Neil was waiting for Matt in the locker room before the fourth practice, when the Hawks’ second goalie, Ray Johnson, spoke. 

“So, Josten… how are you and Minyard doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Well, you obviously hate each other. You shout at each other on the court in.. whatever that language was. I mean… you look like you’re going to kill each other. How are you playing together like that? It doesn’t make sense.”

Matt laughed. “No one is bleeding. I say they’re doing perfect.”

Andrew shot him a pointed look. 

“We’ve played together for a long time I guess,” Neil said.

Johnson nodded and proceeded to adjust his armor. 

Neil felt Jean Moreau staring at him as if he was trying to drill a hole in his head. He tried to ignore the backliner but enough was enough. He finally broke under the pressure of his gaze. _“What?”_ Neil said in French. 

_“Why are you playing like this?”_

It was a logical question considering Neil’s game had dropped significantly in quality since he was trying hard to play by his new captain’s guidance. 

_“I’m playing like captain genius asked me to,”_ Neil replied. 

A few pairs of eyes gazed between Jean and Neil. Andrew raised an eyebrow.

 _“He’s wrong. If you play like this, we’re going to lose. You’re going to lose,”_ Jean said. 

_“I already told him that.”_

Dominic cleared his throat and spoke in English. “You do know that I speak French, right?”

Neil froze. He did not know that. 

“And you want a gold star for that? I didn’t say anything I haven’t already told you,” Neil said. 

“What do you mean we’re going to lose if you play like this? Those are perfect combinations. There’s a reason why we won the championship last year,” Dominic said. 

Delusional. This man was completely, annoyingly _delusional_. Neil snapped.

“Oh, please. You won the championship last year because a/Jeremy Knox is brilliant, and b/Andrew. You might be a great captain, though I have no proof of that yet, but you’re not a great striker. Jeremy is. You know why? Because he doesn’t play like that. He doesn’t follow the dry combinations that you probably took out of an Exy strategy book a million years ago. He kept your offense line intact.

“You don’t like me, fine. You’re not exactly subtle about it. But guess what? You don’t have to. So why don’t you leave your goddamn antagonism out of the court and let me play the way I know will make this team better?”

Everyone stared at Neil. Andrew’s lips twitched in a barely visible smile. Matt grinned. 

Jean snorted. “At least that was more subtle than your “You know, I get it” Riko speech.”

Matt blurted out a loud laugh before he pressed his hand over his mouth. He walked out, unable to keep the laughter down.

Dominic gave Neil a once-over look and smirked. “Okay. Give me your best.”

Then Dominic followed Matt out to the court. 

Andrew muttered, “That fucking mouth.” 

“Shut up.” Neil chuckled. 

Dominic put Neil in a team against him again. Perfect. The captain underestimated how the years in PSU had perfected every move between Andrew, Neil and Matt. It was a mistake to put them in a team together if he wanted to prove a point to Neil. 

He didn’t. Neil was killing it. After the last shot he took, Jean shouted, _“That was a Raven’s move, asshole!”_

For a second Neil forgot Dominic spoke French and shouted back, _“Blame your ex for that, asshole.”_

Dominic’s jaw dropped. Oh, shit. It wasn’t like Kevin and Jean had been hiding back then but that was a wrong thing to say, anyway. 

On the way to the locker room, Neil received a few pats on the shoulder, Natalia Ruiz, the defensive dealer, practically squeezed him like a stuffed toy. She and Lina Beran, a backliner, had been excessively nice to Neil. 

They passed him by and he heard Lina say, “Told you the kid would kill it.”

He almost burst a laugh. 

Neil sat on a bench in the locker room and sipped water in small gulps waiting for the rest of his teammates to get in the showers and leave. 

Andrew stared at him from the bench across from him. 

“Did you change in the locker room with your old teammates?” He said. 

That brought everyone’s eyes on him again. Jean gave him a sympathetic look. The backliner didn’t care to hide his scars but his scars were nothing like Neil’s. 

“Yes.”

“Then why are you not doing it here?”

“Andrew,” Matt started. 

“It’s fine,” Neil said. “I just didn’t want to freak them out right off the door.”

“Neil, no. You’re… Don’t say that.” Matt’s voice sounded like he was about to start crying. “You’re not _freaking out_ anybody. This is your team. You don’t have to tiptoe around anyone here.”

Andrew looked at Matt and then shifted his gaze back to Neil. He made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “What he said.”

Neil nodded. He pulled the shirt over his head, expecting the startled gasps. The Cardinals had reacted the same way, so there was no reason Neil thought the Hawks would take a different path about it.

He heard a stifled breath behind him, someone clearing their throat, then dead silence for a minute. 

Matt broke it. “What d’you fight, a bear?” He gestured at the bruises on his ribs. 

“A rabid one,” Neil snorted.

Andrew was staring at Neil’s neck, blank face and wide eyes, the faintest flush high in his cheeks. He looked like he wasn’t breathing. 

“What?” Neil’s hand instinctively rose to the point between his neck and his chest and… Oh. 

He was still wearing the silver star Andrew had given him years ago. He’d never taken it off. Heat spread across his face and he didn’t have to look at himself in a mirror to know how flushed he was. Fuck. He was so used to the chain around his neck, he’d forgotten about it. 

Neil swallowed. 

_“Why did you keep it?”_ Andrew switched to German. 

_“I… Drew I don’t… I’m gonna take a shower.”_

Neil rushed to the showers and stayed there for a long time. He slightly banged his head against the tiles. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Andrew wasn’t supposed to ever know about this.

When he was finally done, he went back to the locker room, hoping to find it empty. Andrew leaned against the lockers, his wet hair ruffled in a way that made Nei’s insides melt. He wanted to run his fingers through the blond locks, feel the soft textures between them. He’d always had a thing for Andrew’s hair. 

Neil put his clothes on as fast as he could, ignoring the scrutiny look Andrew gave him. 

“Come on. Team lunch,” Andrew finally said. 

Luckily, Andrew didn’t bring up the star chain again. 

The first game of the season went great. The Hawks won. Neil scored five times. 

In the after-game interviews, a reporter asked Andrew how he felt about playing with his rival on his team. Andrew said, “As long as he remembers which end of the racquet is for shooting there will be no bloodshed on the court.”

That night Neil sat on the floor in his apartment, sipping cherry lime sparkling water and browsing through his twitter while texting Kevin. 

**@ExyQueenKDay** Congrats, @NeilJos10, that last shot was out of this world, man!

Neil chuckled. It was an impossible shot, some risky combo Neil decided to go for in the last seconds. He shouldn’t have scored and yet he did. Dominic had called him an absolute crazy maniac, and that was by far the closest thing to a compliment he’d gotten out of the captain. 

**Kevin [23:01]**

_You play like you did in PSU together, but better._

_Yeah, playing was never the issue with Andrew._

**Kevin [23:02]**

_Ha. Andrew being Andrew is the issue. I saw that after-game interview._

_It’s fine. He finds the whole rivalry thing hilarious_

**Kevin [23:03]**

_Of course, he does. Is it ok thou? Is he saying this shit just for show?_

_Yeah. It’s all fine. He said we’re good being friends and I think I believe that._

**Kevin [23:04]**

_Are you okay with it? Being friends?_

_I don’t know. I think so._

**Kevin [23:05]**

_Ok. But if anything happens I’ll absolutely volunteer to murder him._

_What about jail time? You’re too delicate for jail, Kev!_

**Kevin [23:06]**

_Fuck off! I got a huge to-read pile._

_He saw the star chain._

**Kevin [23:07]**

_OH._

_Well, fuck. Did he say anything?_

_Asked me why I kept it. I said I didn’t wanna talk about it._

**Kevin [23:08]**

_Not that I’m siding with the enemy but… why DO you keep it?_

_I feel better that I have it on me._

**Kevin [23:09]**

_Ok. It’s none of his fucking business then._

Kevin was right. Neil didn’t owe Andrew an explanation about what kept his mental balance intact. It was none of his business. 

He opened twitter and posted a new tweet. 

**@NeilJos10** great game tonight! @MattDBoyd & @JeanMoreau WILD defense! @AMinyard you can’t cause bloodshed by staring from the goal like a creep, dick. What are you gonna do, blow up my head with your mind?

 **@AMinyard** I can whack you with my racquet. How’s that for bloodshed? 

**@NeilJos10** You’ll have to catch up with me first. You remember how to run? Run a lap next time on practice. 

**Drew [23:17]**

_If you give Dominic ideas about more running, I’ll kill you._

_Unlikely_

**Drew [23:18]**

_Try me._

_Why do you think I’m a goalie? I hate fucking running, Neil!_

Neil laughed. He remembered Andrew’s frown when he had to run on the treadmill in the gym. A grumpy, animated-character kind of frown. It was adorable, really. 

Most of the time, Neil really was okay being just friends with Andrew. But sometimes, like tonight, when he thought of the exact shape the freckles on Andrew’s cheek formed, or how his hair looked after a shower, he wanted to get in his car and drive to his apartment and kiss him senseless. 

Which… bad idea. He’d said he wanted to be friends. No taking it back now. 

Neil scrolled through his contacts and hesitated with his thumb over Andrew’s name. He took a long breath and dialed Matt, instead.

*********

The game against the Chicago Rebels was brutal. They had won the championship last season and didn’t plan to back down. But the Hawks with Neil and Jean Moreau in the starting line were something else. Jean worked with Matt in a way that left little room for mistakes, even less open space for the Rebels’ strikers to break through the defense line. And Neil was… Neil was fucking unpredictable. 

He was faster than a flying bullet, destroying the Rebels’ defense again and again. The score after the first half was 14:3. 

Dominic practically beamed in the locker room. Andrew knew Dom didn’t like Neil. He had some twisted idea that Neil had done something to wrong Andrew, which couldn’t be further from the truth, but Andrew didn’t seem fit to explain himself. Dom and Jeremy were close, so when Jeremy left for Neil, Dom decided it was all Neil’s fault. So, Dom didn’t like Neil alright, but since the season started, he grew to respect him for what he was capable of on the court. 

When they walked out for the second half, Andrew made a point of shoving Neil backward and shouting “this is so fun” in German. Neil flicked him off, but Andrew could see the small shake in his shoulders as he giggled. The shouts from the audience grew louder. 

God, that rivalry shit was so fun. One of Andrew’s favorite things to do was fucking with people, and Neil let him drive the thing as far as he wanted. 

The Rebels decided to go for harsh body checks. Neil evaded most of the hits, leaving the Rebels’ backliners panting and swearing behind him. 

Andrew passed the ball directly to him, and Neil spurred into another one of his impossible-to-score combos. Neil passed to Dominic, Dominic to Natalia, Natalia to Neil who appeared out of nowhere between the Rebels backliners, and this was it; Neil sneaked between the defense line like they were lifeless statues and scored. The goal flashed red at the same time as one of the Rebels’ backlines, a 6’2” asshole with at least a hundred pounds on Neil, slammed him into the plexiglass wall, hitting his head back hard. Neil was pinned between him and the wall like a rag doll. When the man let go, Neil slid down and fell in an awkward position, his arm stuck under his body. 

Andrew’s heart stopped for a second. The shouts of the audience became incoherent background noise. He ran towards Neil, and almost collided with Dominic, who was pushing him away.

“Andrew. Andrew, stay back. It’s going to be fine,” he said quietly. 

Dom expected him to go for the backliner. Instead, Andrew shoved him away and kneeled down next to Neil. He looked so fragile like that. Andrew undid his helmet and threw it aside. Neil’s eyes twitched, then he blinked slowly. Medics were running on the court, carrying a stretcher. 

“Drew.” Neil slurred. 

Andrew’s chest clenched so hard, he thought his ribs bruised. Matt caught his shoulder, dragging him back when the medics reached Neil. 

“Go change,” Matt whispered. 

Andrew looked at him unblinking. Matt just gestured to the locker room and turned to say something to Dominic. 

Andrew wiped the sweat off in his jersey and put on whatever clothes he got out of his locker. Matt followed a minute later, already throwing his shirt off on the bench. 

“Northside. Go. Wait for me at reception.”

Andrew stormed out of the stadium and drove to the hospital like a mad man. He knew they wouldn’t let him in: family-only bullshit. But when Neil moved to Atlanta, he’d listed Matt as his emergency contact. There was a chance Matt could… convince them. The bastard always had a way of getting what he wanted from people. 

Andrew had paced the stupid lobby in the stupid hospital for fifteen stupid minutes when Matt arrived. 

Matt walked to the reception, gave his name, used his idiotic puppy-dog eyes or whatever, and that was it. Andrew was all clear to follow him. He wasn’t that useless after all. 

The time in the waiting room dragged like a snail on a hot concrete wall. It could’ve been days for what Andrew could tell. Matt had enough brains not to talk to him right now. It wasn’t the first time Neil had been injured, so Andrew’s reaction wasn’t exactly news. 

The doctor finally came out. 

“Neil Josten?” he asked looking around the waiting room. Matt jumped off his seat. Andrew could barely move. 

“Yes, hi, I’m Neil’s emergency contact.”

“Ah, Mister Boyd. I’m Dr Hodges. Neil is stable. He’s awake but he’s a little dazed due to the painkillers we gave him. He has a concussion. As I said he’s okay but we’d like to keep him in for observation tomorrow. We’ll run another scan tomorrow to double-check the results and rule out swelling and hemorrhage, but he should be fine. He will have to rest for a couple of weeks, and I’ll give him a prescription for the headaches.”

Matt exhaled a long breath. “Thank you. Can we see him?”

The doctor shot a look at Andrew. “It’s family only, I’m afraid.”

“Neil doesn’t have blood relatives. It’s just us. He’s,” Matt pointed at Andrew with his thumb, “Neil’s boyfriend.”

Andrew’s brain melted at the word.

“Alright. Okay. You can see him, but make it quick.”

The doctor disappeared in the elevator. 

“You coming or what?” Matt said. 

Andrew didn’t think he was breathing. He followed on Matt’s heels. “Boyfriend? Really?”

“I’m not in a mood to nurse your fear of emotional commitment. It worked, didn’t it? Suck it up.”

Andrew was wrong earlier. Matt Boyd was completely fucking useless. 

Neil’s eyes beamed when Matt opened the door. 

“Mattyyyy.”

“Hey, buddy, how are you feeling?”

Neil struggled to pull himself up, then gave up and dropped his head back to the pillow. 

“M’head’s fuzzy.” Matt shoved a blanket under Neil’s pillow so he could lean up a bit. “Oh. Drew. What’re you doin’ here? You look pale.” He grabbed Matt’s hand. “Why’s he look pale? Like… like he’s seen ghosts.” Neil pulled his hand away from Matt and held it up, looking at it dead serious. “‘m I a ghost?”

Matt snorted a laugh and pressed both his hands over his mouth. “Oh, God, you’re so out of it.” Matt looked at his buzzing phone. “It’s Kevin. Do you want to talk to Kevin?”

“Keviiiin. Yes. I do. Love Kevin. Kevin’s the best.”

“Alright, alright, wait.” Matt picked up, laughing at the phone’s screen when Kevin’s face popped up. 

Andrew leaned against the wall, watching Neil. He was drugged out his mind, and yet, there was something light about him. Like he’d had this huge rock on his shoulders that was now lifted. 

“Kev, talk to Neil. Heads up, he’s totally woozy.”

“‘m not!” Matt turned the phone to Neil’s face. “Hey, Kev! I hit the wall. A dude hit me in the wall.”

“I saw that. Are you feeling okay? Anything broken?”

“Mmno. I’m fine.”

“Of course, you are.” Kevin sighed. “Matt?”

“He’ll be okay,” Matt said without turning the phone away from Neil’s face.

“How’re you doing, Kev, Kevin, listen, listen.” Then Neil went silent. 

“Neil?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you want me to listen?”

“Oh.. I thought I was singing that song from the lions' movie. I wasn’t?”

Kevin laughed. “No. Don’t sing the lions song, you have a terrible pitch.”

Neil teared up. “I don’t.”

“Okay, okay, you don’t.”

Neil’s smile flashed again, bright like the sun.

“Is.. is sunshine loverboy there?”

Matt’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He looked at Andrew, raising an eyebrow. Andrew shrugged. 

“Neil. Okay. Maybe… don’t talk about that now?”

“Why not? Is he mean to you? Nah, he can’t be mean. I think he’ll burst into flames or something. Hey, look,” Neil grabbed the phone off Matt’s hand and turned the screen around. “Drew’s here.”

“Talking about mean people.”

Neil looked at Kevin. “He’s… He’s not mean. Okay, maybe a little. But it’s like charming mean.” He leaned closer to the phone. “Like… really pretty and mean.”

Jesus fucking Christ. What the…

“Matt, for God’s sake, please, take the phone away from him and shut him up.”

Matt was laughing so hard, he barely managed to say goodbye to Kevin. 

Neil looked at Andrew. “I don’t think he likes you.”

Andrew suppressed a smile. “He does.”

“Are you sure? He said he’ll help kill you,” then he turned his face to the pillow and muttered into the fabric, “when you hurt me again.”

Andrew swallowed. _When_. _When_ you hurt me again. Not if. 

Neil still thought this was all a phase. A quiet before a storm. 

“Umm, I’ll go get us water and give you a minute,” Matt said and slipped out of the room. 

Neil looked at Andrew so intently it drew sweat on the back of his neck. Andrew walked over and sat on the chair next to him.

“You’re so serious.”

“I… I was scared for you, that’s all.”

Neil turned sideways, staring at Andrew’s face. And he couldn’t take it. Andrew couldn’t bear the crystal blue. Heat built up in his cheeks, his breaths grew shallow and quick. 

“Hold my hand,” Neil said. 

Andrew forced a breath in and slid his fingers along Neil’s, lacing them together. The point of contact between them felt like home. It was sending warm shivers crawling up Andrew’s arm, weakening his muscles. He tipped his head down and pressed his forehead to the side of the bed. 

Neil’s fingers in his hair were a shock. A touch that pulled all the air out of Andrew’s lungs. 

“‘m fine.”

“I know, junkie. You’re fine,” Andrew muttered into the bedding. 

He didn’t move. He was a melted mess with Neil’s hand in his hair and his skin touching Neil’s and he didn’t think he could leave unless someone forcefully dragged him out of here. 

When Neil’s hand slipped off Andrew’s hair, he looked up. Neil drifted off, mumbling something in his sleep that sounded like _lions_ , _king_ and Andrew’s name. 

Fifteen minutes later, Matt forced him out of the room. 

The next day, Andrew barely waited until evening came and they let Neil go. He’d texted Matt he was taking Neil home, and Matt said nothing about it. 

They wheeled Neil out in a chair to the lobby and Andrew took it from there. He offered his shoulder for Neil to lean on. 

“I can walk, Drew.”

“Okay. Walk then.”

“Where’s Matt?”

“No Matt. Just me.”

“Oh.”

“Your trust in me is inspiring, but let’s go.”

Andrew walked to the parking lot, matching Neil’s steps, always a few inches away, ready to take his weight if he faltered. Neil didn’t. Andrew opened the passenger door to the Maserati and Neil took a second of hesitation before he sat down. 

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

He was lying, but Andrew wasn’t going to push him. The questions in his head bounced around his skull like tennis balls. _Why do you keep the star chain? Why do you look at me like that? Do you still want me?_

In the end, he asked none of them. He drove Neil home, walked him to his apartment and waited by the door. 

Neil hesitated again, then turned to face Andrew. He always kept an arm’s length between them, though at this point Andrew wondered if Neil didn’t trust Andrew to keep his distance or himself. He hoped beyond hope it was the latter.

“I’m sorry I made you hold my hand at the hospital. I was really high on those meds.”

“Don’t apologize for that.”

“Well, I know you’re not exactly… You don’t like touching.”

Andrew was losing his fucking mind. He stole a step closer. “I don't mind it.”

Neil huffed a weak laugh. “You don’t mind it? Last time someone put a hand on you, you threatened to stab them.”

Here goes nothing. “I don’t mind it when it’s _you_.”

Neil’s eye grew wide, the black pupils eating away the crystal blue. Andrew’s breath hitched when his fingers found Neil’s cheek. The touch was gentle, delicate, something that Andrew never thought he was able to do years ago. And yet, he had.

Neil placed his hand on top of Andrew’s, his skin barely ghosting over Andrew’s. 

“Don’t say things like that.”

Andrew struggled for composure. He shifted his hand, caught Neil’s fingers and pressed them against his lips. Neil shivered at the touch. 

_Don’t push him. Don’t fucking push him._

Andrew stepped back and let go. “I’ll check on you tomorrow. Make sure you’re not running like a deranged gazelle with a concussion.”

“Okay,” Neil said in a voice so soft, it dripped like honey right into Andrew’s chest.

When Andrew shut the door behind him, he leaned against the wall until his muscles remembered how to work again. 


	13. The revenge of the castaway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neal makes a decision.  
> The team deals with some serious media shit.  
> Miscommunication is a bitch. 
> 
> *smutty.stuff.coming.up* (you've been warned)  
> *I swear things will get better*

Neil couldn’t sleep that night. His heart was stuck in his throat and he couldn’t stop thinking about Andrew’s fingertips on his cheek, the softness in his eyes when he touched him. 

Neil had ignored Kevin’s calls last night which resulted in a string of texts with too many question marks. Staring at the ceiling most of the night probably wasn’t how the doctors expected Neil to rest for a couple of weeks, but at least he was in bed, right? He rolled over and snatched the phone from the nightstand when it buzzed. 

**Kevin [07:03]**

_Hey, I hope you’re not answering cause you lost your phone again and not because something’s gone bad. You ok?_

Neil thought for a long moment. He could just lie. But he’d given up lying to Kevin the day he’d cried on the floor in his room in Wymack’s house while Kevin held his head against his shoulder. Kevin didn’t deserve his lies. 

_No._

The phone buzzed immediately with an incoming call. 

“Hey,” Neil said. 

_“What’s going on?”_

“I… Andrew drove me home yesterday and… I can’t do this, Kev. I’m trying, _really_ trying and it’s just…”

 _“What the hell did he do?”_ Neil could hear the anger rise in Kevin’s voice. 

“Nothing. He didn’t do anything. I think he was about to kiss me and he pulled back… I mean, I told him I wanted to be friends so I get it. But I just… I wanted him to. And I can’t stop thinking about it and I shouldn’t cause I already said no.”

_“Neil…”_

“I know. I’ll stop. It was just… too much. I know I can’t take it back, so I have to stop.”

 _“This isn’t what I was going to say.”_ Kevin sighed. _“Look, you and Andrew are so weird, I don’t even wanna get started on this. And, believe me, it physically hurts me to say this, but there’s something between you two that’s not… ordinary. So, if you changed your mind about the whole being friends thing, then you changed your mind. What, you think he’s going to turn you down now?”_

“Uh, yes? I said no. No doesn’t get to change into yes. Not with him.”

_“You didn’t see him at Nicky’s wedding. He’s so far gone, all you have to do is say you want this and he’s all in.”_

“I don’t know…”

_“Do you want it?”_

“I… I don’t know.”

_“Well, figure that out before you have a meltdown about a kiss that might or might not have happened.”_

Neil heard a light knock on a door somewhere but decided to ignore it. 

“Very helpful.”

Kevin laughed. _“Always happy to be of service.”_

Neil rolled to his side, lying on his phone. “How’s Jer adjusting with the team?”

 _“Oh, you know Jer. They fucking_ adore _him, it’s disgusting.”_

“Jealous much?”

_“Little shit much?”_

Neil snorted. “Oh, come on. You’re telling me it doesn’t bother you at all that Diaz probably fantasizes about him in the shower now that Jer’s in the same team?”

“Why would it bother me? I trust Jeremy. He’d never do anything like that.”

“Sure. Why would it bother you that number two of sexiest men in sport for two years in a row makes eyes at your boyfriend or watches him shirtless thinking about pressing him to a wall and lick—”

_“Okay, okay! Shut up! Fine! Goddamn it, Neil! I don't wanna hear this! Jesus, how are you even saying those things without blushing like a fucking teenager?”_

Neil laughed. “You don’t know if I’m blushing. Also, I’ve spent years listening to this from Nicky and Allison. Honestly, they’d be proud.”

_“Sure they would, the heathens.”_

Neil yawned, trying to hide it with a weak laugh. 

_“Neil. Think of what you want and talk to him. Okay?”_

“Okay.”

_“Okay. Eat something.”_

“Mhm.”

As soon as Neil hung up, his phone buzzed again. 

**Drew [07:14]**

_Breakfast?_

_Are you offering or asking for?_

**Drew [07:15]**

_Offering. Open the fucking door, Neil._

Neil rolled out of the bedsheets and dragged himself to the door. He realized he was in his boxer shorts just before he opened the door. Shit. 

“Hi,” Andrew said, giving Neil a once over. “I knocked.”

“Oh. Um… I was on the phone.”

“Are you letting me in or?”

Neil pulled the door open. “Sure. Come in.”

Andrew walked in and put a bag of groceries on the counter. 

“You know that I can feed myself, right?”

Andrew snorted. “What do you have in your fridge right now? Fruit, sparkling water and oats?”

“That’s food.”

“Sure, it is.”

Neil watched him unpack the groceries and store some in the fridge. 

“I need a shower. You ok here?” Neil finally said. 

“Go.” Andrew didn’t spare a second look at him. 

Neil took a change of clothes with him in the bathroom. 

What if Kevin was wrong? God, Kevin was probably wrong. Andrew had barely looked at Neil. He knew _no_ was _no_ with Andrew. No takebacks. And yet, he hoped, so damn much. 

When he came out, the delicious smell almost knocked him out. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was. 

Andrew set a plate for Neil on the counter and pulled one of the high chairs. They were sitting across from each other now, and Neil finally took a good look at Andrew’s face. He looked tired. Really, really tired. Had he even slept? Had he stayed up as Neil had? Was it for the same reason? 

Neil curled his hands around the cup of coffee Andrew offered him. The tension grew in Neil’s stomach. He took a few bites of the food, but all he could think about was what if, what if, what if. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes,” Andrew said. 

He had a hundred questions to ask. Back to the root, he finally decided. “Why did you… why did you leave?”

Andrew put his fork down, staring at Neil. He knew exactly what he was asking. Why did you leave _me_? 

“Does it matter? I did it. There’s no changing shit I did in the past.”

“It matters to me. I’ve spent too much time trying to figure it out. So why don’t you tell me the truth?”

Andrew crossed his arms on the edge of the counter. “Neil…”

“If you don’t want to answer… I mean… You can…”

“No. I’ll answer. But…” Andrew licked his lips. 

“But?”

“Truth for truth again? Yes or no?”

“Yes. You like that game too much.”

Andrew looked away from Neil’s face, clearly considering his answer to Neil’s question, then looked back at him. He held his gaze, his eyes burning with a strange determination Neil hadn’t seen in a very long time. 

“I left because I was scared. I thought you made me weak. I thought I let you in too deep and you could destroy me.”

Neil’s voice came out raw and quiet. “Why’d you think I want to destroy you?”

“I… I don’t. I was… It’s my turn. Did you say you wanted to be friends because that’s what you _really_ want or because you’re scared I’ll hurt you?”

Neil swallowed. “The… the second one.”

“I guess I deserve that.”

“You do.”

They looked at each other like they could set the air on fire. Neil felt the tension prickle across his skin. 

“Why’d you shut me down when I came to your apartment?”

Andrew squinted his eyes. “Come on, I told you that. You could do better than that.”

“Humor me.”

“Neil…”

“Truth, Drew. I know what you said, now tell me the truth.”

“Drop it.”

Neil pushed himself back and stood up. This. _This_ was the whole fucking reason why they were in this place. Neil didn’t want to open up and let Andrew hurt him again, and Andrew was too fucking scared to talk about his goddamn feelings. And Neil was done with this bullshit.

“Stop it, Drew. Fucking stop it! You either talk to me and tell me the truth or you can leave my fucking apartment and this whole ‘we’re friends’ crap is over.”

Andrew’s head snapped back at Neil so fast he thought Andrew would strain his neck or something. Andrew stood up and rounded the counter. He was so close to Neil, too damn close. 

“I wanted you to want me back because you _loved_ me, not because you felt sorry for me. And don’t try to deny you felt sorry, your pity was painted on your face.”

Neil couldn’t stop the laugh. “Loved you? I’m surprised you can actually pronounce that word without bursting into flames.”

“You’re… Whatever. I’m leaving.” Andrew stormed for the door. 

Neil grabbed his wrist and ducked when Andrew turned around and swung a weak punch. It was a token one, almost pathetic. 

Neil pushed him against the counter. Andrew’s eyes were blown dark and hazy. “Talk to me.”

“Move.”

“No. Talk to me or we’re done. Really done.”

Andrew’s face paled. His breaths brushed Neil’s chin in quick streams. “What do you want me to say, Neil? I already told you what I want. You said no. You want me to rip my heart out and give it to you for dissection? I’m not doing that.”

“Do you still want me?”

“What are you—”

“It’s a fucking yes or no question.”

Andrew stepped closer. Heat curled in Neil’s veins. 

“Yes.”

Neil swallowed. He felt the room spiraling around him. His breath caught. 

“Yes,” Andrew said again, his voice was velvet-soft. “I want you. I never stopped wanting you. Never will. Do you know how fucking frustrating that is?” Andrew’s knuckles brushed Neil’s cheek, his fingers ran through his hair, and Neil melted under the touch. 

“Drew…” Andrew pulled him in. 

“Yes or no?” Andrew said against his lips. Neil couldn’t say yes fast enough. 

The kiss was soft, a gentle brush of lips, Andrew’s hand on the back of Neil’s neck, fingers digging in his hair. Neil pushed until Andrew backed to the counter again. God, he wanted to touch _everywhere_. He wasn’t going to break the kiss to ask, so he placed his hands against the counter edge on both sides of Andrew, caging him between them. Andrew licked Neil’s lips and slipped his tongue in his mouth, and Neil’s brain short-circuited. 

His grip tightened in Neil’s hair, the tug sending a fresh wave of tingles through Neil’s spine. Andrew pulled Neil’s hand off the counter and placed it on his chest. Neil didn’t wait for a second invitation. He slid both hands up Andrew’s chest, through his shoulders and buried them in his hair. 

Andrew bit his lip, drawing a soft moan out of Neil. He broke the kiss first, too soon. Neil would gladly kiss him until he forgot his own name. 

“Say you want this,” Andrew whispered. 

“I want this. I want you.”

Andrew turned them around and pressed Neil hard into the counter. His hands slipped under his shirt, mapping out every inch of skin he could reach. Andrew was kissing him like he’d die if he stopped. 

And Neil was lost to it. He let himself drown in the sensation of Andrew’s mouth, of shaky breaths and hot hands on his body. He kissed Andrew until his mind emptied. Until nothing else existed. 

~

The first practice after the two weeks rest didn’t go well. Neil wasn’t used to feeling weak, he wasn’t used to being exhausted after a game. He hated it. He took an extra long time in the shower hoping the exhaustion would wash away in the hot water. It didn’t. 

He found the locker room empty, save for Andrew leaning against the lockers. Neil double checked if the coast was clear and pressed a long, savoring kiss to Andrew’s lips. 

Kissing Andrew had become a regular thing, but Neil took his time taking things further. Not that he didn’t want to. God, no. He’d rip Andrew’s clothes off right then and there. But he was losing himself into this too fast. He needed to pace himself. 

More often than not, he found himself biting down words he was not supposed to say. It was too early, this thing between them too fragile. But kissing was safe. Except when it fogged Neil’s mind and pushed him to some melted, blissed-out state of mind. All fuzziness and tingles in his spine and wanting _more_. And maybe that was all the time.

“I’ll drive you home,” Andrew mumbled into his lips. 

“Mhm,” Neil said and kissed him again. 

Andrew drove to Neil’s apartment and walked him up. As soon as the door shut behind them, Andrew was pressing Neil against the wall, kissing him. His hands traveled up and down his chest, slid around his waist, up his back, nails digging into Neil’s skin. 

He gasped against Andrew’s mouth, letting out an unchecked moan. Neil kissed Andrew’s neck to gain back control, reveling in the shiver that shot through Andrew’s frame. Andrew buried his hand in Neil’s hair pulling his head back and hauled him into a bruising kiss. His fingers drew a wavy path down Neil’s stomach and caught at his belt, tugging. Neil melted into him. 

And then Andrew’s finger slipped an inch further and Neil barely found the strength to pull back. 

“Drew…”

“Mhm?” Andrew hummed against Neil’s jawline. 

“Slow down.”

Andrew let go, panting. “Right. Slow.” He kissed Neil’s neck, biting gently into the tender skin and smiled at the stifled sound Neil let out. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Andrew said and pressed another kiss to Neil’s mouth. 

God, Andrew was going to kill him. This pacing himself shit was harder than Neil thought. 

When Andrew left, Neil sat on the couch nursing a grapefruit soda. His skin was on fire. Neil wanted this to work. Really, really wanted it to work this time. He didn’t want to say something to drive Andrew away like he did last time. No, Andrew had said it wasn’t anything Neil did. Then why the hell was Neil holding back? He kept treating this as if it was going to end any minute now, as if Andrew was going to shut him down. It wasn’t going to work if Neil didn’t trust Andrew wanted it as much as he did. 

He paced back and forth in his apartment for another thirty minutes, then grabbed his keys and drove to Andrew’s apartment. 

Fuck it. He wanted it. He was done holding back. 

Neil knocked, pressed his hands on each side of the door frame and waited for Andrew to open it. 

When Andrew's face popped up, he looked like he was just as wrecked as Neil felt. 

Neil stepped in. “Yes or—”

“Yes.” Andrew cut him off and hauled him inside. 

*********

Andrew backed Neil aggressively against the apartment door. He’d wanted this for so fucking long, he was probably losing his mind. He slipped his hands under Neil’s shirt, pulling it over his head. Neil shivered, fingers curled in Andrew’s hair. God, he was gorgeous! Andrew had no idea how he ever thought he could live without him in his hands. 

Andrew pressed his palms into Neil’s hips, pinning him to the door and painted small, feverish kisses down his chest, kissing every scar, drawing tiny circles with his tongue. Neil bit his lip, pushing down a moan. Andrew caught his belt and dragged Neil backward to his bedroom. 

Neil’s eyes grew wider. He was barely in control of his breathing and Andrew thought he’d never seen anything more beautiful. He loved taking Neil apart. He loved being the only one who could. 

He pushed Neil to the bed and climbed up, straddling Neil’s hips. Neil hesitated with his hand halfway to Andrew’s chest. 

“Where can I touch?”

“Everywhere.”

“Drew…”

_“Everywhere.”_

Andrew knew Neil didn’t believe that, but it was the truth this time. He wanted to give him that. He wanted to give Neil all of him, no holding back, no fear, just both of them, tangled together in a beautiful mess in Andrew’s sheets. Neil wrapped his arms around Andrew’s waist, a place he knew was safe. 

Andrew kissed him desperately, hungrily, like the world would end if they stopped. He traced a path of sloppy kisses down his chest, fingers pressed into Neil’s hips, holding him in place. He flipped his tongue over Neil’s nipple and smiled against his skin when Neil whimpered. 

Neil’s pants quickly went off, followed by Andrew’s. He stopped for a moment, and looked at Neil, naked and wanting and so goddamn beautiful on his ivory-colored sheets. Andrew pulled his own shirt over his head and peeled off the wristbands. Neil was watching him as if his life was flashing before his eyes. Andrew was always so careful, so wary when it came to being completely naked. This was him taking his walls down. 

He kissed Neil’s hip, biting into the hipbone, and moved down, down, over his thighs, peppering kisses on both of them. He kissed the inside of Neil’s knees, bit a small bruise on the inside of his thigh. Neil pushed out an obscenely loud moan when he did that. God, finally; Andrew loved every sound coming out of that gorgeous mouth. 

He kissed his way up, ran his tongue across Neil’s navel and looked at him. Neil met his gaze with a burning stare and a lip between his teeth. 

“Still yes?” Andrew asked. 

“Y-yes. Drew, God, yes.”

Andrew dragged his tongue from the base of Neil’s cock to the tip, pressing hard on the vein on the underside. Neil whimpered again, and, God, Andrew was going to lose it if he kept this up. 

Andrew took him in his mouth down to his throat. 

“Drew, f-fuck… Andrew!” 

He bobbed his head up and down Neil’s length, each moan adding to his own arousal. He was so hard it hurt, but he didn’t care. He wanted to make Neil sob in pleasure, wanted to drive him crazy. 

Andrew twirled his tongue around the head of Neil’s cock and pressed into the slit. Neil’s hand swept up into Andrew’s hair, clutching hard into the locks. 

Andrew took him all the way down again. 

“Drew… I can’t… I’m gonna… God, Drew!”

Andrew wasn’t done with him. He let go with a wet pop and kissed a path to Neil’s neck. His skin smelled like some earthy cologne on his neck. Andrew sucked a bruise into Neil’s collar bone, slow and hot and licked over it. ‘Mine’ he wanted to mark into his skin. Neil’s pulse was racing under Andrew’s fingertips. He pressed his knees on both sides of Neil’s thighs, rubbing their cocks together. Neil’s hands wandered across Andrew’s chest, gripping his hips. He was shivering, shaky breaths and little, sweet moans, shooting spikes of pleasure right into Andrew’s dick. 

Andrew pressed one hand on the side of Neil’s head, the other holding their cocks together, dragging torturously slow strokes up and down. He pressed his forehead to Neil’s. 

Neil caught his lips and kissed him, his tongue licking into his mouth. Andrew pressed a kiss on his cheek, his jawline, his ear. Neil’s hands found their way back into Andrew’s hair. 

“Andrew…” Neil punched his name out on a shaky gasp, his voice was silky smooth. 

“I want you. So fucking much. God, Neil!” Andrew didn’t think he’d survive long with the rate his heart was going. 

“Andrew, Andrew…” Neil moaned helplessly, his nails digging into his skull, and it was all over for Andrew. He came with a stifled sound he planned to pretend never happened. Wet, hot stripes spilled over Neil’s stomach. Neil followed him over the edge in a couple of strokes, smothering his moans into Andrew’s mouth. 

Andrew let his body lean over Neil’s and relaxed against his chest, Neil’s fingers running gentle paths through his hair. They stayed like that for a few minutes. 

“This is getting disgusting.” Andrew frowned at the feeling of sticky warmth against his stomach.

Neil spat a wet laugh. “Shower?”

“You want to join in?”

“Yes.”

Andrew used the shower time to cover every inch of Neil’s body with his palms, rubbing shower gel over his skin. 

They fell asleep nose to nose, Andrew’s arm wrapped around Neil’s waist, holding him close. He’d never slept better.

*********

Practice went in a blur. Neil was still thinking about last night, his head so out of the game, he could barely score. Dominic frowned at him at the locker room but he’d blamed it all on his concussion and too-long rest. 

Neil was fresh out of the shower, holding his shirt, when Matt shot an amused look at him and chuckled. 

“So, um, mosquitoes are horrible in Atlanta, I hear.” 

Neil furrowed his eyebrows, confused. Andrew glared at Matt as if he was about to throw a knife at his throat. 

Matt laughed at Neil’s face and gestured at his chest. Neil instinctively looked down. Oh, shit. Right. Those. He had a rather prominent bruise on his hip and another one on his collar bone, and those definitely didn’t look like game injuries. Heat rushed to his cheeks. 

A few stares passed through him like quick bullets and Neil decided to ignore all of them. 

Ray Johnson laughed. “Aww, of course, you're taken. That makes Andrew the token single in the team.”

“I’m single, too, bitch,” Dominic said. 

“Your on-and-off relationship with someone who might or might not be a lawyer, we’re not yet sure, doesn’t make you single.”

“Whatever, Ray.”

“Unless Andrew’s not single anymore,” Jean said. “Hey, Minyard, you have a girlfriend? Boyfriend? Lover-friend? Alien?”

Fucking asshole.

“Nope.” Andrew cast a deadly stare at Jean. 

Neil barely had a second to dissect Andrew's answer when Dominic's voice cut through the room.

“Oh, shit,” Dominic swore under his breath, staring at his phone. Everyone looked at him. “God fucking damn it!”

Natalia barged in with a hand over her eyes. “Any dicks in the open? No? Cool.” She put her hand down. “Dom, did you see this shit?” She shoved her phone in his face. “What the fuck, man! What the actual fuck!”

“I’m… Jesus.”

Ray Johnson stared at his own phone, gaping. “I’m gonna kill that piece of shit!”

“What? You know who this is?” Natalia chimed. 

What the hell was going on? 

Andrew put his shirt on and snatched Dominic’s phone. Ill-concealed shock ran through his face. A flush crawled up to his ears. 

“What? What’s going on?”

“This could only be Becker. No one else could have taken those,” Ray said. 

Coach Alvarez stormed into the locker room. “Holy fucking shit, we’re not halfway into the season yet and this complete _bullshit_ is happening? I’ll talk to the PR but until then I need all of you to _no comment_ the shit out of the assholes. Got it? Complete media silence. Say you understand.”

‘Yes, coach.' came from all corners of the locker room. 

“Goddamn motherfucking fuckface, shit!” Alvarez stormed out.

Neil was standing in the middle of the locker room, completely lost. He quickly put his shirt on, looking at Matt for an explanation but Matt just raised an eyebrow. The locker room was abandoned at record speed. Only Neil, Andrew and Dominic stayed behind. 

“You okay?” Dominic asked, looking at Andrew. 

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

He had a hand on Andrew’s shoulder and a sympathetic and rather soft look in his eyes, and Neil’s pulse skyrocketed. He dug his phone out of the bottom of his bag, hoping it was charged. 

He opened twitter and the tweets exploded in his face. 

@exyfan1910 OMG I told you @DominicLee was gay!!!

@MonicaLL @TheAtlantaHawks have you recruited ANYONE who isn’t a major life fuck up???

@exyforever21 @AMinyard IS SUCH A WHORE!!!

Buzzfeed article, retweeted more than ten thousand times. 

‘Andrew Minyard and Dominic Lee, the secret Exy hook up for the decade.’

Neil’s head buzzed. His breath froze in his lungs. 

There were links, so many fucking links, all of them leading to an article about the Hawks. Photos of Natalia Ruiz snorting cocaine in a nightclub, Ray Johnson’s gunshot scars on his shoulder, Dominic Lee throwing up in an alley, and Andrew… so much of Andrew. Andrew kissing an unnamed man in a club, Andrew with another unnamed man in a different club, Andrew kissing Dominic with a hand down his pants in another fucking club. All photos were dated. The date on that last one was 19th April. Three days after Nicky’s wedding. Three days after Andrew had told Neil he wanted him back and he’d wait no matter what. 

Neil was shaking. Objectively, Andrew wasn’t with Neil then but… Neil was struggling to breathe. He’d just denied he was with anyone a few measly minutes ago. What did that mean for him and Dominic then? Was he... Were they... Neil's thoughts blurred together. 

“I’m so sorry about that, man. I never thought this fucking asshole would do something like this to the team,” Dominic said. 

“Yeah, no worries, we’ll deal with this. Lucky, we have decent PR.”

Dominic laughed. “They’re not miracle workers.”

“Yeah.”

Andrew was watching Neil, he could feel his eyes on his face. 

“I’m… I’m gonna go. Umm… see you, I guess.” Neil slipped out of the locker room, ignoring Andrew calling his name and his quickening footsteps behind him. 

Neil sat in his car and slammed the door hard behind him. He pushed a window down to let the heat out and turned the engine on. He almost ran over Andrew, who was standing in front of the car, hands pressed to the hood. 

Neil pressed the gas slightly, pushing Andrew back. 

“You’re gonna have to run me over, Neil. I’m not moving until I talk to you.”

“I can’t talk now,” Neil gritted out.

“Yeah? Sucks to be you.”

“Move.”

“Turn the engine off and let me in.”

“Fucking move, Andrew!”

“Not going anywhere. Let me in the car. This is your only option. You can try to run home but I swear to God I’ll tackle you on the ground.”

Neil slammed his fist into the steering wheel. 

“Real mature,” Andrew muttered. 

Neil killed the engine, waited for Andrew to get inside and drove off. He turned the radio up and stepped on the gas. This kind of driving could get them both killed but right now Neil was pissed out of his mind, he wouldn’t even care if fifteen police cars chased him. 

Andrew turned the radio off. 

“This isn’t what you think it is. We can talk about it. I can explain.”

“So I’m either not seeing right, or your hand was down Dominic’s pants.”

“Neil, this isn’t—”

“Which one is it, Drew?”

“This was nothing.”

“As far as I’m aware, so am I.”

“Bullshit. Fucking bullshit, Neil! You’ve never been nothing and you fucking know that.”

“Do I? Didn’t you _just_ say you’re single in the locker room?”

“This isn’t what I said. He asked if I had a boyfriend, I said no.”

“This is the same fucking thing!”

“No, it’s not. I’m not going to define what we are without asking you.”

Neil laughed. It was fake and dark and bitter. He didn’t care. “Your clever semantics. Always a loophole. Always an exit to slip through. And you call _me_ out on running away. You’re doing the exact same thing, only with less sweating.”

“Neil—”

Neil slammed the breaks in front of Andrew’s building. “What? _What_ , Andrew? You wanna throw another fucking lie at me?”

Andrew reached for Neil’s hand and it felt like a dashboard lighter burn. Neil jerked his hand away. 

Andrew sighed. “I’m not lying to you. It was a fucking hook up. It was… I was a mess after Nicky’s wedding. It was a distraction. A one-time thing and it meant nothing. Are you really going to hold something that happened before we even got back together against me?”

Neil wanted to scream. He knew Andrew hooked up with random people in clubs, this wasn’t exactly news. Before Neil, most probably after Neil. But this felt different. Dominic’s affectionate way of talking to Andrew was different. How did Neil not see it until today? 

Andrew didn’t want Dominic to know about him. This was why he denied he was with someone. This was why he wanted to keep Neil a secret. 

_It was nothing._

He’d heard that line for fucking years. He knew exactly what being Andrew’s nothing felt like, what the nothingness of it entitled. 

“Get out of my car,” Neil hissed out. 

“Neil—”

“Out.”

When Andrew shut the door behind him, Neil drove off without looking in the rearview mirror. 

  
  
  



	14. Take a chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kevin is a national treasure. (we all need a Kevin in our lives)  
> Andrew puts all chips on the table.  
> The Hawks take a little revenge on the asshole who screwed them over.  
> Neil is fine. Really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter left after this one. It's basically self-indulgent fluff and the CATS. ARE. IN. If you don't want to watch me being an epic sap, skip next one.  
> You've been warned ;)

“What the fuck are you doing here?” A low rasp woke Andrew up. 

He blinked a few times to take in the surroundings. Right. Neil’s apartment building. Andrew was sitting on the floor in front of Neil's door, back pressed against the wall.

He’d come to talk to Neil last night. Well, there was some talking alright, most of it Andrew’s. It had sounded painfully like begging. Neil’s part of the conversation was muffled behind the door and consisted of a lot of _fuck_ s and _bastard_ s and something that might have been a bottle crashing into the door. 

“‘m being pathetic. Obviously. What are _you_ doing here, Day?”

“Neil called me, slurring some shit that didn’t make sense. Until I saw the very detailed pictures of your sex life and then it did make sense.”

Andrew snorted. “Right. You and your big-brother complex.”

“Are you fucking the captain dude?”

Andrew’s face froze. “That’s a bit too bold for a chickenshit like you, Day.”

Kevin crossed his arms in front of his chest. “And what are you going to do, threaten me with your knives again? This is getting old.”

“Glad to see you grew a spine. Won’t save you if you piss me off, though.”

“You’re not answering the question.”

“Fuck off, Day.”

Kevin huffed a laugh. “You’re not in college anymore, Andrew. I get you’re always going to be… difficult, all things considered. I fucking get it. But I thought you outgrew that shit where you need to break everything so you can feel like you’re not breaking yourself. At least I thought you didn’t need to do that to Neil. Guess I was wrong.”

Kevin ignored the pointed look Andrew shot at him and moved to the door. He fished a key out of his pocket—of course, Kevin fucking Day had a spare key to Neil’s apartment—and opened the door. 

Andrew followed him inside. 

There were glass shards on the floor by the door, a whiskey bottle on the coffee table and Neil’s phone on the kitchen counter. 

Kevin checked Neil’s bedroom and the bathroom and came back with a defeated look on his face. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath. 

How the hell had Neil sneaked out? Andrew was sitting on the outside of his apartment all night. Had he climbed down the window or something? 

Kevin dialed someone and moved by the window to talk. It sounded like a Matt Boyd conversation. 

Andrew knew he could explain this to Neil, if he would give him a chance, if he weren’t so damn angry. Neil couldn’t hold his stupid hookups against Andrew. It wasn’t fair. They weren’t the same. Neil wasn’t interested in being with other people, wasn’t attracted to anyone. And that’s where they were different. 

It really hadn’t meant anything. Andrew had been a fucking mess that night and had one drink too many and it just happened. He’d made out with Dominic in the bathroom in the nightclub and they’d both agreed it’d been stupid and moved on like it never happened. 

Neil and Andrew weren’t even together then, what the fuck was all this about then? Objectively, Andrew knew he was right, but there was something in the back of his head screaming ‘this isn’t the real problem’. 

_The real problem_. 

Kevin hung up and shot a venomous look at Andrew. 

“I’m not fucking him,” Andrew said.

Kevin squinted his eyes. 

“Did you tell Neil that?”

“Yes. It was just a fucking hook up. What do you want me to do, apologize for everyone I’ve hooked up with while being single?”

Kevin shook his head. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“You’re crossing very dangerous lines with me, Day.”

Kevin snapped. He charged against Andrew and pressed a hand against his shoulder, pinning him to the wall. Andrew had a knife pressed against Kevin’s stomach in a heartbeat, the tip digging under his skin, staining a small spot on his shirt red. 

Kevin swallowed. He leaned his head closer. From this close, Andrew could see his pupils dilate. Good. He was still scared of him, which made what Kevin said next even bolder. 

“You’re an idiot. He’s not pissed because you’ve had a hook up when you weren’t together. He’s not pissed. He’s hurt. Because from where he stands, this looks like you never really meant what you said to him at Nicky's wedding and you’re keeping your options open. It looks like you don’t want your captain loverboy to know about Neil. It looks like you’re just fine in the middle between being with him and not being with him, like you don’t want Lee to know cause you’re keeping a back-up plan. And after everything you’ve done to Neil, everything you’ve said to him, I can’t even blame him for thinking that. 

“Are you going to gut me or what? Do it. It won’t change the fucking truth, Andrew. You can’t have him and call this nothing again. You can’t treat him like he’s just a temporary fix in your life. You broke his heart. You broke his trust. I know what that looks like. You don’t. You weren't there. And just so we’re clear, I think he can do a _lot_ better than you, but I’m saying this for the sake of his happiness, not yours. I don’t give a shit about you. You made damn well sure I don’t.”

Andrew pressed the knife harder at that. Fucking ungrateful piece of shit. Kevin winced and let out a shaky breath. 

“If you ever want this to work again, you’re gonna have to crack that ‘I feel nothing’ wall. He’s not _nothing_. Make him feel like that again and watch him leave. I’m perfectly fine with it. I know plenty of people who’d go the extra mile to treat him right.”

Andrew shoved Kevin away from him, put the knife away and left, slamming the door hard behind him. 

He drove aimlessly for hours. 

Kevin’s idiotic speech wouldn’t leave him alone. He wasn’t hiding Neil. God fucking damn it, he wasn’t! 

Andrew took a turn and headed to PSU. Neil didn’t have that many hiding spots. Every time he felt broken, Andrew knew where to find him. If Neil was lost, he’d only find peace at home. And home had been one place for him. 

He dialed Aaron from the highway. 

“Do you think I hide Neil?”

Aaron sighed. “Well, hello to you, too.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not.”

“Then why the fuck did you call to ask me?”

Andrew growled and hung up. 

He dialed Bee.

“Hello, Andrew. I’m glad you called.”

Andrew did not have the fucking time for courtesy.

“I’m fucking up everything, Bee.” Andrew stepped hard on the gas. 

“Do you want to elaborate?”

“With Neil. I’m fucking it up. I can’t be what he wants me to be. I can’t be an open, publicly affectionate person. I can’t…”

Andrew’s breath caught. 

“Andrew, where is this coming from?”

“They think I’m hiding Neil.”

Bee didn’t ask who ‘they’ were but she didn’t really need to. After so many years, she could recognize every nuance of Andrew's 'they'. They, people in general, they, his friends, they, the people who hurt Andrew. 

“And what do you think?”

“I don’t know. It’s no one's goddamn business, Bee.”

“Have you brought this issue up with him?”

“No. But… shit happened and now he thinks I’m hiding him because I’m fucking someone else, and this isn’t what’s happening.”

Bee took a moment to respond. “I don’t think that Neil wants you to change who you are. Based on what you told me, I think everything you’ve done since you got back together shows more affection than you’re giving yourself credit for.”

“It’s not enough. I’m not—”

“This is a very unhealthy thought. Try to let go of it.” Bee took another pause. “Andrew, have you talked to Neil about the reasons why you broke up with him?”

“In a way.”

“That’s a good start. I think you’re forgetting that you’re not the only one in this relationship who can be scared. You both have a very… difficult background. Have you considered that he believes he’s not enough, too?”

Andrew didn’t have anything to say to that. Neil was… Well, Neil was many things but ‘not enough’ wasn’t one of them. Neil was sometimes too much even, too much feeling, too much vulnerability. He was warmth and safety and a hazy cloud of pleasure and razor-sharp sanity. Neil was everything.

“Thanks, Bee.” 

Andrew disconnected the call. 

Andrew called Waymack on the way to the Foxhole Court to get the code to the gate, and slipped into the empty court. Sweet tension wrapped around his chest. The air felt different here. Clearer. It felt like coming home. 

A shadow sitting on a row in the audience seats caught his eye. Black hoodie and red curls peeking out, gorgeous blue eyes staring at the court. 

Predictable. 

Andrew walked up to Neil and slumped in the seat next to him. 

“You almost caused Kevin a knife wound,” he muttered. 

“I’m not responsible for your rage episodes.”

“It wasn’t rage. More like an utter annoyance at Kevin’s existence.”

Neil snorted. “What are you doing here?”

Andrew put a hand over his own knee, his pinky finger brushing Neil’s knee. “I wanted… needed to talk to you.”

Neil turned to face Andrew. “Are you… are you sleeping with him?”

“No.” Neil looked away. Andrew couldn’t take this. He slipped his hand over Neil’s knee. “Neil. No.”

“Why did you even… Drew, if you want more, if you… need more than me, then fucking tell me. Don’t lie to me.” 

Neil’s face looked wrecked now that the anger had leached out of him. 

Andrew cupped his cheek. “I don’t want more. There’s nothing more than this, Neil.” He dipped his head down and mumbled. “Fuck, I can’t believe you’re making me talk like that.”

“I’m—”

“I don’t want anything else.” Andrew looked at him, taking in the crystal blue like it was his lifeline. “You’re what I want. You’re everything.”

Neil stared at him like he’d grown a third arm. 

“Bee thinks we should talk about… before.”

“We already did.”

Andrew straddled the bench, pulled closer and held Neil’s face between his palms. “Yeah. Ok. Shut up. This is hard for me.”

“Okay.”

Andrew brushed his thumbs against Neil’s cheek. He’d look at that face until he fucking died. “You make me feel out of control. It’s like falling. And I thought that if I let you stay that close, I’d crash to the ground sky-high. But then I let you go and I still crashed, and it was worse than I thought it would be like. You make me vulnerable, too open, and you’re… you’re perfect. You can do better than this. I thought you’d realize that one day and go and leave me broken. 

“So I left before you could. It’s… it’s like the cuts. Controlled pain. It still hurts but I’m in control of it.”

“What made you think I’d want someone else?”

“What, like I’m a model boyfriend?”

Neil chuckled. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say this word.”

“Not the point here, Josten.”

“What’s the point then?”

“The point is, I took the wrong path with this cause I was afraid. You asked me that first year what I was afraid of. This. It’s this. And heights.” Andrew spared a small smile. “But I’m done being afraid.”

Neil reached for his head and stopped half-way. “Can I?”

“Yes.” 

Neil put a hand on Andrew’s neck and pulled him in, pressing him against his chest. Neil smelled of his stupid fancy cologne and cigarette smoke. Neil placed a kiss on Andrew’s head reducing him to a melted mess. 

“Drew,” Neil said. 

“Mhm?”

“I don’t wanna be nothing.”

Andrew pressed a kiss against Neil’s collar bone through his shirt, feeling the shiver that crawled through Neil’s body against his lips. “You’re not. Never have been. I wanted to convince myself so badly, but the truth is there was never going back from you since that day I asked you to stay. I told you I wasn’t as smart as I thought I was.”

Andrew buried his face in Neil’s shirt and whispered into the soft fabric. “You’re everything to me.”

They stayed like that for minutes, hours, no one was counting. Neil’s heart a solid rhythm against Andrew’s cheek pressing at Neil’s chest. Neil’s body heat sent sweet tingles curling in his veins. 

“Drew,” Neil broke the silence. 

“Mhm?”

“I wanna punch Dominic in the stupid face.”

Andrew huffed against Neil’s shirt. “And now you know what it felt like when I watched the annoying hot asshole crowd you like he owned your ass.”

“Aw, I knew you liked Cristian.”

“Shut up.”

Neil pushed a hand through Andrew’s hair. Jesus, he was trying to kill him, Andrew was sure of it. 

“How the hell did you get out of your apartment? I was there all night.”

“Fire escape.”

“You’re crazy,” Andrew said and pressed another kiss through Neil’s shirt. 

“This is news to no one.” 

Andrew rolled his eyes. “Make up your own goddamn lines, Josten.”

Neil laughed. “Wanna go back?”

“Yes. But you have to call Kevin. He’s probably having a meltdown.”

“You should probably talk to him like that, too.”

Andrew shoved Neil forward. “No fucking way in hell!”

“Oh, come on. Kev will appreciate it, he’s a sweetheart.”

“Have _him_ be your boyfriend then.” Andrew deadpanned. 

Neil chuckled. “Say that again.”

“Have Kevin?”

“No. Boyfriend.”

“Fuck, you’re never letting this go, are you?”

“No.”

“God, my boyfriend is a menace.”

Andrew watched Neil’s shoulders shake, his face glowing in a way that felt like melted honey. 

He was really done this time. Done pushing away. Done being afraid. He was never letting go again. 

*********

The Hawks PR team possessed superpowers. Neil reminded himself to never doubt them. They had an official statement, which basically said “fuck off, our players are human beings, not fucking robots”. Neil was impressed really. He’d expected a backlash from management. Natalia took part in an event for drug abuse prevention, Dominic talked about LGBTQ+ players in Exy and the impact their coming out could have on young players (Andrew refused). 

Twitter was a shitshow. 

@exylover465 but like how hot are @AMinyard and @DominicLee together???

@chrisexy19 @AMinyard can’t be like … gay gay. Bi maybe? I just don’t get that vibe.

@naterossner3 @chrisexy19 ‘that vibe’? You’re a total idiot. Gay isn’t a fucking vibe, asshole!

@alexdowson99 what about morality clauses??? This is disturbing! 

@dannyex13 hey @TheAtlantaHawks how’s it feel to have y’alls naked butts checked out every time @AMinyard and @DominicLee are in the locker room?

 **@TheAtlantaHawks** We fully stand behind our players. They are outstanding athletes and professionals. Their personal lives are not a matter of discussion for us.

 **@TheAtlantaHawks** We do not have a morality clause in our players’ contracts. The Hawks do not condone discrimination of any kind.

 **@AMinyard** Yes, I’m gay. Get over it.

 **@NickyHemmickKlose** that’s my fucking cousin!!! 

**@AAMMinyard** I’m not Andrew, stop tagging me. 

**@LailaDermott** All the love from me & my wife to the Hawks boys. Yes, you read that right, assholes!

 **@AMinyard** To clear the air, yes the pictures are real, no I’m not hooking up with EVERYONE and no I’m not on the market. I’m in a committed relationship. Fuck off.

 **@AlliReynolds** JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, @AMinyard DID YOU JUST SAY WHAT I THINK YOU SAID???

 **@AMinyard** Yes. Shut up.

 **@MattDBoyd** Awwwww, look at Andrew having an actual human heart. 

**@NickyHemmickKlose** SO PROUD OF YOU CUZ!

 **@DominicLee** Congrats @AMinyard! @TheRayJohnson I'm officially the token single in the team. Do I get a prize? 

**@TheRayJohnson** @DominicLee only if you score against the fucking Bears!

 **@ExyQueenKDay** @AMinyard fucking finally!

 **@AAMMinyard** congratulations, grumpy fuck!

Buzzfeed article: "Who are the Atlanta Hawks dating: the complete list." It was total crap. According to the article, Neil was dating Natalia Ruiz; a statement supported by a few affectionate after-game photos of Natalia hugging Neil. Except Natalia was dating Lina Beran, and people were fucking idiots. They still linked Andrew and Dominic together and Neil tried not to imagine Dominic's face smashed in a hydraulic press.

@alexdowson99 IS THERE AN EXY PLAYER THAT IS FUCKING STRAIGHT??? 

**@NickyHemmickKlose** @alexdowson99 I am yet to meet one.

 **@AMinyard** @alexdowson99 No.

 **@JeanMoreau** @alexdowson99 Improbable. 

**@JeremyKnox** @alexdowson99 Ha! That was a good joke.

 **@CristianDiazOfficial** @alexdowson99 Nah, why do you think we’re so gorgeous, dick?

 **@NeilJos10** @alexdowson99 Jealousy is a petty feeling, dick.

 **@LailaDermott** @alexdowson99 No.

 **@ExyQueenKDay** @alexdowson99 maybe you should stop watching Exy? Also, no.

The support for the Hawks was country-wide. Becker, however, did not get what he deserved. They couldn’t prove he took the photos or that he spread them online. 

Today, the Hawks had a game against the Minneapolis Bears where Becker currently played. 

Neil was playing fueled on pure rage. He was going to run himself into the ground before he let this asshole win. He tried combinations that were downright risky, not just for the score. Neil risked injuries; he’d never be so reckless but he was mad in anger and wanted to make the asshole pay for what he’d done. Even if it was that little. 

By the twentieth minute, he took four heavy body checks, his ribs burned, his thigh felt nearly numb. 

Andrew was shouting from the goal in German. After another body check that almost knocked Neil out, Andrew ran toward him and Dominic, fuming. 

“Get him off the fucking court, Dom!”

“Go away, Drew. I can play!”

“I don’t give a fuck!” He turned to Dominic again and hissed. “Get him out.”

Neil spent the rest of the first half, watching from outside of the wall. Fucking Andrew! Neil could play. This wasn’t his call to make. Neil didn’t need to be babied. 

Jean was out fifteen minutes before the first half, nursing a bad hit in the ankle. And everything went downhill from there. The score by the end of the first half was 10:4, Bears’ favor. 

Neil was fuming. 

Andrew walked into the locker room for the break last. Neil jumped right into his case. 

_“Do not tell me if I can play or not! I’m not a fucking child, Drew!”_ He shouted in German. 

_“I won’t let you get yourself knocked out because you want to prove a point.”_

_“I’m not proving a point. We’re losing! We’re fucking losing because you think I can’t handle the asshole!”_

_“Stop it.”_

_“You stop it!”_

Coach Alvarez walked in, red-faced and sweating.

Dominic cleared his throat. “Are you two done?”

“Yes,” Andrew said. 

“No!” Neil barked. 

Andrew snapped. “Shut up! If we lose, we fucking lose! I’m not risking you break a fucking limb for a goddamn vendetta, Neil!”

Everyone looked at him.

Jean chuckled from the bench where he held an ice pack over his ankle. _“Aw, this is back on again? Congratulations, dipshits. I always thought you’re perfect for each other. Same kind of crazy.”_

God, at least he had the decency to say it in French. Oh, wait. Dominic. Fuck! 

“I don’t even know what you said, and I still want to punch you,” Andrew said. 

Dominic stared at him with his eyebrows raised. “Yeah… You’d probably want to.”

“Can we focus?” Neil said. 

Andrew pointed a finger at him. “Sit this one out, junkie.”

They stared each other down. “Dominic, put me back in,” Neil said without breaking eye contact with Andrew. 

A faint flush crawled up to Andrew’s ears. 

“We’re not losing this one, Andrew.”

Jean looked up from his foot where he was wrapping gauze tightly around it. He spared a quick look at the coach, who stood by the door watching silently.

“Josten’s right. That asshole tried to fuck us over," Jean said.

“What do you care, Jean, hmm, Jean Valjean, what’s that have to do with you? He had nothing on _you_ ,” Andrew hissed. 

“We’re a team.”

Andrew snorted. “Oh, and you’re such a team player now?”

“You still act out like a five-year-old when you don’t get what you want.”

Andrew flipped him off. 

“I can play the second half,” Jean said. 

“Are you sure, Jean, that looks pretty bad,” Coach Alvarez said. 

“Yes. Put me in.”

Dominic took a long look at him, then turned to Coach Alvarez. He made a gesture meaning 'You decide'. Alvarez had a thing to hand more power than he was supposed to over to his captains. Neil thought it was an advantage right at this moment. Alvarez probably wouldn't let Jean play with an ankle injury, and God, he shouldn't. But they needed to win. They had to.

“Okay. Neil you’re in,” Dominic said. Andrew glared at him. “Jean, too.”

“Andrew,” Neil said, a request in his voice. 

“No.”

“Andrew.” Neil knew Andrew could lock the goddamn goal down. For the right incentive. Neil flashed a wide smile. _“I’ll stock my freezer with enough ice cream to last you three months,”_ Neil said in German. 

_“Buy a bigger freezer.”_

Neil laughed. “We’re gonna kill them.”

At the door, Andrew wrapped a hand around Neil’s neck and whispered in his ear. “If you get hurt, I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I almost believe you.” Neil laughed. 

They did win. Neil scored the last 4 goals on a wing and a prayer, the Bears’ backliners almost knocking him on his butt a few times. Becker nearly smashed him into the wall again. The shots were impossible. The aim visibly off. Neil still found a hole to push through and the goal was flashing red, red, red, again and again. His adrenaline was up in the sky. 

The Bears shot at Andrew’s goal seventy-nine times, and Andrew didn’t let a single one in. The game ended 10:14. In the end, Andrew was panting. Neil turned to look at Becker and flipped him the bird with both hands. He hoped the cameras caught that. 

Neil was grinning so wide, his mouth hurt. Matt patted his shoulder. On their way to the locker room, Dominic shouted behind him, “You deranged maniac!” Whatever, Neil still wanted to punch his teeth into his skull. 

Neil couldn’t sit down, still hyped. Jean was beaming. 

_“That’s why Riko lost against you. You’re totally crazy,”_ he said in French. 

_“Nah, you give me too much credit. We were all fucking maniacs in that game. Too much to lose.”_

Andrew watched Neil, propped against the lockers. He had a tiny smug smile on his face and a wicked glint in his eyes. 

“You’re fucking insane,” Andrew said. 

“Says the guy who locked the goal down.”

“Celebrate tonight?” Ray Johnson said.

“Fuck. Yes.” That was Dominic. 

Two hours later, Neil was pleasantly warm from the glass of whiskey he had. He didn’t plan to have another, not when Andrew was looking at him like he wanted to devour him. He’d absolutely back out of it if Neil was even a little drunk. 

Matt and Jean talked about a new backline strategy Jean wanted to try out. Dominic was encouraging Natalia to pour an obscene amount of tequila shots into her body. The rest of the team was dancing close by. Andrew was leaning against the table watching Neil trying to talk him to death. Neil was slowly swaying his hips back and forth, not realizing what he was doing until Andrew’s eyes traveled from his eyes down to his hips. He looked like he was about to faint. 

Neil didn’t care who was watching them. He stepped closer. 

“What?” Neil said. 

“What are you doing?”

“It’s called dancing. Want to try it sometime?”

“Why would I do that when I can just watch you.” Andrew’s gaze on Neil sent heat down his neck, crawling to his chest, his stomach, lower. 

Andrew licked his lips. Goddamn it. Neil’s breath caught. He was close. Too close. Andrew gave Neil a slow once-over, and God, Neil wanted to wreck his stupid shirt, push him on the stupid table and kiss him senseless. 

He took an involuntary step closer. Andrew ran a finger along the buttons of Neil’s shirt, keeping eye contact. Neil almost moaned. 

“Yes. It’s yes.” Andrew whispered. 

And Neil was already kissing him, a hand pressed over Andrew’s on the edge of the table. Andrew cradled the back of Neil’s neck, pulling him closer. 

Someone wolf-whistled from the table. Neil could bet all his money it was that idiot Jean. 

He smiled against Andrew’s mouth and kissed him again. 

“This might end up online eventually,” Neil muttered. 

“And I’m known for giving a fuck about what people say since when?”

Neil snorted and let Andrew pull him flush against him, kissing his nose. 

It was good. It was all so good, Neil didn’t want to spend another second worrying what might go wrong. 

Because nothing would. Neil wouldn’t let it. 

  
  



	15. Heart-to-heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff, more fluff, Christmas gifts, the Foxes are a fam, cats, even more fluff.  
> (YES, Aaron is the one to give Neil and Andrew the cats! No one's allowed to have a problem with this!)
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING, THE COMMENTS AND KUDOS! YOU'RE AWESOME!

Andrew woke up with Neil’s head on his shoulder. Years ago he might have jumped back or lashed out at the sensation of another body in his bed, but now he pulled Neil closer and buried his nose in his hair. He smelled like Andrew’s pine shampoo because, of course, Neil Josten did not pack like a normal human being, and used Andrew’s stuff instead.

He ran his fingers through Neil’s hair, causing the redhead to shift and murmur something incoherent against his shoulder. All this time. Years. Fucking years, without Neil. Andrew was touch-starved. No; Neil-starved. He rolled his eyes at his own idiotic revelation. 

The house was still quiet. Matt had invited the Foxes for the holidays in his parents’ monster-house. Even a house that big couldn’t properly fit thirteen people. The Foxes only maybe, but Jeremy, Jean and Katelyn made a crowd if Andrew was one to say. In all honesty, he was still in a silent sulk and secretly judging Renee for dating the French asshole. She was supposed to get over her infatuation in college, especially after her little texting flirt with Jean ended with him dating Kevin. She said it hadn’t been the right time. Whatever. 

“Drew,” Neil murmured as he buried his head in the crook between Andrew’s neck and shoulder. He kissed him, wiping out every last thought from Andrew’s head. 

Andrew pushed Neil down and climbed on top of him, biting at his jawline. 

“Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Neil purred. 

Goddamnit. 

Andrew kissed him into the mattress. Neil’s hands swept to Andrew’s hair, tugging gently. It should be illegal for this to feel so good. Neil had slept with his shirt off; a mistake in retrospect, because Andrew wanted to take him apart with his teeth, and it wasn’t exactly a great idea when there were eleven other people in the house. He traced kisses downward, covering Neil’s chin, his neck, biting down at his collarbone, God, he loved leaving marks on that spot, then lower, leaving a wet trail down his stomach. 

Neil was moaning his name so softly it was doing something to Andrew’s head. It was all fog and cotton-candy sweetness. 

“Drew…” Neil made a token effort to push himself up, and then gave up when Andrew sucked at his hipbone. His head fell back onto the pillow. “Drew. People. I… Fuck, do that again.”

Andrew smiled against his skin and sucked another little bruise an inch from the first one. His fingers found the elastic of Neil’s boxers and pulled down. Neil choked on his name. 

“Can you be quiet?”

“Y-yes," Neil said. Andrew licked the tip of his head. “Yes. Quiet. I don’t know. God, _yes_.”

Andrew looked at him with a smug smile on his face. “Just don’t wake the whole house up.”

Then Andrew swallowed him whole and got lost in the sugared sounds Neil made at every press of Andrew’s tongue. 

Neil was still shaking when Andrew kissed his way back to his mouth after. 

“You could’ve been louder, I’ll give you points for effort.”

“Fuck you,” Neil managed to push out in a shaky voice. 

“I can make that happen,”

Neil chuckled and buried his face in the pillow, muffling an ‘Oh, my god’ into it. 

They showered together, did more kissing than washing, and finally left the warmth of the bed behind. 

In the kitchen, Jeremy was whisking pancake batter, while Kevin sat on the counter, one knee hooked on the back of Jeremy’s thigh and his fingers running up and down his biceps. Jeremy was wearing deer antlers. 

“Aw, you’re so cute I’m gonna die,” Neil said and Kevin almost fell off the counter. Jeremy turned around, a flush spread all over his face. 

“Good morning,” Jeremy said. “I’m making Happy Christmas pancakes.”

“So, just regular pancakes,” Kevin said. 

“No, Kev. _I’m_ making them. They’re… happy. You’re all grumpy shits in this house, you should have some.”

Neil pressed his head to Andrew’s shoulder, giggling. 

“I’ll help. I’m not grumpy. I’m in a great mood, actually. That qualifies me for pancake maker?” Neil said. 

“Yeah. We heard. Can you two fucking keep it down?”

Jeremy punched Kevin’s shoulder and ignored the retort. “Absolutely does. Happy pancakes.” Jeremy grinned. 

“Oh, by the way, there’s a picture of you two online,” Kevin said. 

Andrew shrugged. It was bound to happen at one point. They weren’t hiding at all. 

Kevin fished his phone out of his pocket and turned the screen to Neil first, then to Andrew. 

It was a picture of Neil and Andrew the morning after their last game in California. They were sitting on a bench near the waterfront, Neil’s head on Andrew's shoulder and Andrew placing a kiss in his hair. Neil’s eyes were closed and his face so soft Andrew wanted to touch it through the screen. Oh. Right. He didn’t have to stare at Neil’s picture wishing he could touch him anymore. He was right here. 

They were both tagged in the picture. There was a link to an article, titled ‘Enemies to Lovers? All the signs we missed in the Minyard-Josten romance.’

#MinyardJostenRivalry was replaced by #MinyardJostenRomance and #MinyardJostenExyBoyfriends. He wasn’t sure which was dumber. 

Neil was staring at him with a question in his eyes. 

“It’s fine,” Andrew said. It really was. He didn’t care what people would say. He _wanted_ them to know. He was done hiding and he wanted them to know Neil was his. Especially some ridiculous idiot like Cristian Diaz. Alright, Cristian Diaz specifically. If Andrew was any more petty than that, he’d print the picture out and send it as a Christmas card to Diaz’s house. 

Andrew looked at the photo again, and Nicky’s comment caught his eye immediately. 

@NickyHemmickKlose My babies have grown so much!

Idiot.

“Good morning, grumpy fucks,” Aaron said as he walked into the kitchen. 

Kevin growled. Jeremy shot Aaron a stormy look. “I’ll spit in your pancakes, Aaron.”

Aaron laughed. “I don’t think you’re physically capable of being that evil.”

Jeremy laughed and wrapped an arm around Kevin. “You’re not grumpy, baby.” He reached up and kissed his nose.

“Aren’t you cute.” Jean’s voice came from outside the door. 

Andrew thought this would be weird. Jean and Kevin in the same house, Kevin and Jeremy being like that. But, absurdly, it wasn’t. There was zero tension between Kevin and Jean. Jeremy was a different story but a touch from Kevin or a kiss on his cheek was all it took to wipe off whatever thoughts bothered California’s golden boy. 

“Alright, too many people in the kitchen!” That was Dan. “Everyone out. Jeremy and Neil, stay, I’ll make coffee. Allison, babe, table?”

Allison flashed a huge smile when she entered the kitchen to grab napkins and forks. 

“Congratulations, Neilie, baby, you’re officially out now.” She ruffled Neil’s hair. “Also, you two are so adorable on that picture I might throw up from all the sugar.”

Andrew all but growled. 

It was too much. Too many people, too much… sappy bullshit. Just because Andrew let himself be soft with Neil didn’t mean he was going to do that with the rest of them.

When breakfast was finally ready, Neil walked into the living room carrying a platter, wearing fucking deer ears. With tiny antlers. 

Andrew was about to fucking die.

He swallowed. “What are you wearing?”

“Allison gave them to me.” Neil smiled, so oblivious to the effect he had on Andrew with bullshit like that. 

Andrew glared at Allison. 

“Want a pair too, Minyard?”

He scoffed. 

“No?” Neil looked at him with that five-year-old-looking-at-a-christmas-tree face he had sometimes. “That would be cute.”

“Cute.”

Neil pulled the deer ears off his head and reached for Andrew. 

“Put them on me, and I will kill both of you and bury you in Matt’s backyard.”

Neil laughed. “And this is why Aaron calls you a grumpy fuck.”

Aaron snorted. “I call all of you that.”

“Hey! I made happy pancakes!”

Nicky and Erik appeared, finally, and it was obvious Nicky had been crying. 

“You guys fighting?” Aaron said. 

“No,” Erik said. “Nicky was…”

“I’m fine,” Nicky said causing a wave of loud laughter. 

Neil shrugged and Andrew pulled him in for a small kiss on the cheek. Nicky choked on a sound and buried his head into Erik’s shirt, muffling a sob. 

“Emotional,” Erik said, stroking Nicky’s hair. “I was going to say emotional.”

“‘m just ‘ap-py.” Nicky sobbed into Erik’s shirt. 

“Nicky, babe, your happiness is way too slobbery,” Allison said.

Renee brought a basket of cookies, tapped Nicky’s shoulder sympathetically as she passed by Erik and him, and sat in Jean’s lap. Nope. Andrew could still not wrap his head around this. 

“Are we opening presents yet? I think we’re late,” she said. 

“Yes. Yes! Let’s do this! This is going to be so fun!” Katelyn almost squealed. 

“No. We’re waiting for dad, Abby and Bee,” Kevin said. 

“Fine. Movie then!” 

Matt put the movie on. Elf. Why did it have to be fucking Elf? Allison booed him, and Aaron joined her. 

Halfway through the movie, no one was sitting at the table. There were plates on the floor, syrup on the carpet, orange peels on the newspaper stand. Aaron was wrapped around Katelyn in one of the beanbags Matt brought in. Jean, Renee and Allison were entangled in a sleepy mess on the couch. Nicky watched the movie with a goofy smile and his head in Erik’s lap. Kevin was dozing off on Jeremy’s shoulder, while Jeremy nibbled on christmas cookies. Dan and Matt sat on the floor, legs wrapped around each other, Matt mumbling Buddy’s lines in her hair because Matt was a total christmas sap and he knew the whole goddamn movie script by heart.

Andrew curled in the second beanbag chair holding Neil’s head against his chest. Neil’s fingers intertwined with Andrew’s, his other hand tucked neatly under his back. It was one of those moments. One of those fuzzy, sickly-sweet bubbles of happiness, when the words pushed at Andrew’s throat. He kissed Neil’s head. He’d say them, he knew he would. Every time this happened, he came closer to the edge, half a foot from stepping off. 

The truth was, he _wanted_ to say it. Not because he wanted to use those words to reassure Neil, or to redeem himself for his mistakes. He wanted to say it because it was true. That was what Neil and he did, wasn’t it? They told the truth to each other, and God, _God,_ Andrew loved Neil. With every fiber of his body, he did. 

He ran slow paths through Neil’s hair until the softness of the touch made him dizzy. Andrew drifted off with Neil’s heat against his body and the words stuck in his mind like a record on repeat; I love you, I love you, I love you. 

*********

  
  


Abby and Bee brought food enough to feed a small army. Not that Neil complained. He’d spent most of the day wrapped in Andrew’s arms and he didn’t think there was a better way to spend Christmas. Neil had never cared about the day before, not with everything that had happened to him. His mother, those two weeks with Riko in Evermore. Holidays didn’t mean shit on the run, but the Foxes… They changed everything. They healed Neil. They healed the broken parts of his life and gave him something to build up on, replaced the horrible with new memories, with laughs and ridiculous banters and warmth. 

He loved today, all the horrors in his past be damned. He’d left Andrew play a video game with Kevin, which Neil suspected was some kind of twisted apology between those two. He was standing in Matt’s backyard, taking a breath of cold air, when Aaron found him. 

“Hey,” Aaron said and leaned against the window sill. 

“Andrew’s with Kevin inside.”

“I know. I’m not looking for Andrew.”

That was interesting. “Okay.”

“So… I have a gift for both of you. Well, Katelyn and I, but it was my idea so if Andrew decides to murder someone, it should be me.”

Neil raised an eyebrow. “Umm, I think a major gift giving rule is that if the gift makes the receiver want to kill you, maybe don’t go for it?”

Aaron laughed. “You’ll love it. I promise.”

Aaron was never that nice to Neil. What the hell did he want?

“Is there any particular reason you’re going the extra mile to talk to me? You usually avoid me like the plague.”

Aaron cleared his throat. “Yeah… not my best decision.”

“What?” Neil blinked, confused. 

“I don’t want to avoid you.”

“Aaand why is that?”

Aaron crossed his arms in front of his chest and looked straight at Neil’s eyes. “Like it or not, we’re family.”

“We are?”

“You’re dating my brother, asshole. I don’t see this ending anytime soon.” Aaron choked on a little cough. “I don’t want it to end. I know what Andrew was without you, and I never want to see that again. You make him happy. That’s enough for me to… like you.”

“Like me.”

In any other time, Neil would suspect Aaron was fucking with him. But he looked painfully sincere. Neil wasn’t an idiot. There was a change in Andrew and Aaron’s relationship. Andrew always picked up when Aaron called, returned his texts, and he was unusually open to Aaron’s affection. Neil had accidentally saw one of the emails Andrew wrote to his brother, not that Andrew was hiding it. Whatever shifted the ground there, Neil was happy about it. It was healthy. Andrew deserved to have his relationship with his brother like this, caring and sincere and receptive, not the broken mess their complicated past left them with.

“Yeah. Ok. We can try that,” Neil finally said. If Aaron was trying, then Neil sure as hell was going to do that too. He would do anything for Andrew.

Aaron smiled widely. “We definitely can. I mean, I can’t imagine not liking my child's godfather.”

Neil’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“Yeah.” Aaron flushed a little. 

“Kate’s pregnant?” Neil didn’t realize how high his voice had went. 

“Shhh. Sh! We haven’t told anyone yet.”

Neil grinned. “Okay. Wow. Well, congratulations!”

“Thanks, man.”

“Wait, godfather? Really?”

“You and Andrew. If I’m still alive after my gift tonight, that is.”

“Seriously, what did you get? A box full of scorpions?”

Aaron laughed. “Guess you’ll find out.”

~~

Unwrapping gifts was _so_ fun! Neil felt Kevin’s idiotic smile in his stomach as he watched Neil rip of the paper from the boxes. He muttered something about children and Neil really didn’t care. It was _fun._

Nicky and Erik got Neil and Andrew an expensive oil painting from some fancy German artist. Renee got everyone a mosaic hand-made art piece she made herself, out of stones she gathered from all the place she’d been during her missions with the Peace Corps. 

Wymack gave the Foxes each an engraved key to the Foxhole Court. It was a symbolic thing, really, but Neil’s heart made a small jump in his chest anyway. 

Kevin and Jeremy gave Neil a designer snow-globe with the Foxhole Court in it and Neil nearly cried. Kevin gave Andrew a kitchen knife stand in the shape of a human body with the knives piercing through him. He’d engraved Andrew’s name across the figurine. Andrew glared at him for twenty minutes. 

“Okay, okay, I have to run take my gift for Neil and Andrew from the bedroom,” Aaron said. 

“Why’d you keep it there? It’s supposed to stay under the tree,” Allison said. 

“Logistics.”

Nicky grinned. Ah, fuck, it _was_ a box of fucking scorpions, wasn’t it?

Aaron returned with a big red box, and before he even put it on the floor, Neil heard the tiny _meow_. 

He pressed a hand over his mouth to stop the squeaky sound. “You didn’t,” Andrew said, unimpressed. “God, I’ll kill you.”

Neil was bouncing on his heels. “Really? _Really_ really? Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” He was shaking Andrew’s arm. 

Katelyn chuckled. “Open the box, Neil.”

Neil sank to his knees and lifted the box lid. Two pairs of eyes looked up at him. Aaron fucking Minyard. Neil couldn’t believe it. Had he even said he wanted cats in front of him? He didn’t think so. Neil usually let out snarky comments and growls around Aaron. 

He picked both kittens from the box and held them against his chest. 

“Drew.” He tried not to sound like he was going to cry. “They’re so… fluffy.”

Andrew shot a glare at Aaron. “You show me your love in a really fucked up way, you know that?”

Aaron laughed. “You’re one to talk.”

Neil put the kittens down in front of him and petted their heads in turn. “Can they sleep in the bed?”

“Fuck, no,” Andrew said. 

“Dreeewww. Can I name one after you?”

“If you want me to throw you off the roof, sure.”

“Actually, and I do apologize for this monstrosity,” Aaron started. 

“Hey! Not my fault your imagination is dead,” Nicky chimed in. 

“Nicky named them. Tell them. Tell them what you named their cats, Nicky. I can’t say this idiocy. I’m about to be a fucking doctor. I can’t say this shit.”

“Hater. So, the orange one’s Sir Fat Cat McCatterson and the grey one’s King Fluffkins.”

Neil pressed his face into his palms, laughing. He couldn’t stop until tears were running down his face and he was out of breath. 

“Umm, you can… you can change them,” Nicky said with a little hurt in his voice as if someone had stolen his favorite coffee mug. 

“No. I love them. Sir and King.” Neil leaned down, poking their noses until both kittens had a tiny paw-fight with his finger. 

“Fine. The monsters can stay,” Andrew said behind him. 

“What, watching your boyfriend play with kittens finally melted your heart, Snow Queen?” That was Kevin. 

“Fuck off, Kevin.”

The laughter and snarky banter quickly turned into kitten-adoration time. 

By the end of the night, Neil had lost track of who had the kittens. He finally found them, cuddling in Jean’s lap as he and Renee napped on the couch. Aaron and Katelyn had went to bed an hour ago, so had Allison, Matt and Dan. Wymack left for their hotel with Abby and Bee (not before Andrew dragged Bee outside ‘for a cigarette’). Neil could never understand them two, the way Andrew trusted her, how open he was with her. But at the end of the day, he didn’t need to. He was just happy Andrew could do that. 

Neil was lying half on the beanbag, half on the floor, watching the fire place, Andrew’s hand in his hair. Nicky was all wrapped up in Erik’s arms. Kevin sat between Jeremy’s legs, his head leaning back against his shoulder. Jeremy had his arms around Kevin, singing Lego House in his ear, and Neil thought he’d never seen this expression on Kevin’s face before. It was soft, and carefree and he had that spark in his eyes like he’d won Gold on the Olympics. Like he had _everything_ right in this moment. 

Andrew shifted behind him and stood up, making a gesture for Neil to follow. The warmth of the fireplace and the burn of whiskey made Neil sleepy. He thought this was what Andrew had in mind, but Andrew snatched a few blankets from a walk-in closet and headed outside. 

It wasn’t that cold for a december night, really, but the air still bit at Neil’s overwarm skin too harshly. Andrew lay a blanket on the porch swing, pulled Neil in his lap and wrapped them with the remaining blankets. 

Fuck cold. Neil could live with that. Neil could stay here all night like that. 

“Hi,” he said as his nose touched Andrew’s. “Got bored with warmth?”

“Are you complaining?”

“No. Yes or no?”

“Yes,” Andrew said and kissed Neil first. His arms wrapped around his back, pressing him flush against Andrew’s chest. They kissed like that until Neil breathless and his head was so fucking light he thought he’d fall off the porch swing. 

Andrew shifted under Neil and readjusted them so he could wrap his arms fully around the readhead. His lips were on Neil’s neck, arms holding him so tightly as if he was scared he’d lose him if he let loose. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Neil whispered. 

“I know you’re not.” Andrew pulled one arm from under the blanket cocoon and pointed to the sky. “Is that your star?”

Neil looked up. The North Star. The one he wore on his neck. The one Andrew remembered he talked about so long ago. 

“Yeah.”

Andrew pressed him tightly against himself. “You’re still it, Neil. You’ve always been.”

“Drew.”

Andrew kissed his neck, making him shiver, then the soft spot behind his ear, and whispered in a voice Neil had never heard before. Soft and fragile and warm enough to melt icebergs. 

“You’re _it_. You’re it for me, Neil. You’re all I want.”

Neil turned to look at him, straddling his lap, letting a small icy breeze break into their blanket wrap. He brushed his fingers along Andrew’s cheekbone, and pressed their foreheads together. 

He wanted to say it. So bad, he did. And he knew it wouldn’t be like last time. It wouldn’t scare Andrew away again. But his fickle mind refused to let go of fear. 

So they stayed like that, head to head and heart to heart and it was enough. 

Andrew lifted his head and placed a lingering kiss on Neil’s forehead. He brushed a thumb over the scar on his cheek and looked at him like… He looked at Neil like he was light, and Andrew had been living in the dark for too long. 

Andrew was so close, their lips almost brushing together, when he spoke. 

“I love you.” Neil felt the words on his skin. “I love you, Neil. Always.”

Neil kissed him, long and slow and savoring, like he wanted to print himself onto Andrew’s lips. And Andrew kissed him back the same. Kisses that said “Mine” and “Stay” and “I’ll never leave again”. 

Neil was out of breath. He distracted Andrew with this thumb tracing the line of his lower lip, just long enough to whisper breathlessly, “Always.”

Then he let Andrew’s kisses drag him into a blissful, heated haze, and he knew neither of them was ever letting go because they were enough.

They were _everything_.


End file.
